


Scars On Our Heart

by SarahLannister



Series: The Adventures of Evie Keogh [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama & Romance, Gay Chicken, Humor, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Multi, Multiple Relationships, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Singing, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 12:28:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 73,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14402139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahLannister/pseuds/SarahLannister
Summary: When a dishiveled, lost young woman mysteriously finds herself in the Supernatural universe following her death by suicide, Sam, Dean and Castiel find themselves faced with one of the strangest cases of their lives. Love, laughter, heightened emotions, confusing feelings and chicken wing eating contests combine to create a story about overcoming personal tragedy and learning to laugh at life again. (Originally posted on my Tumblr account!)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to upload this massive lump of craziness to my AO3 as it seems to finally be working well for me to allow uploading and formatting. Written over 6 weeks, please enjoy the full works here for easier viewing pleasure.  
> It's not my first rodeo writing a love triangle but hey, I enjoy romantic/smutty drama so I hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> Please heed the following tags:
> 
> **Graphic mentions of suicide/self harm/physical violence/multiple types of abuse, angst with a hefty side of comedic fluff that ocassionally verges into crack territory, slow burning romance with eventual smut in later chapters, some forced Destiel (nothing Non-Con, just a character pushing them to get together), some Meta themes, mentions of time-travel and some canon divergence.**
> 
> Fair warning!
> 
> Zoop!
> 
> -Chubbs

**CHAPTER ONE**

Dean Winchester sighed lavisciously as he chewed on a mouthful of pie, eyes closed as he savoured the rich taste of sour cherries, buttery pastry and sugar on his tongue. After several days of hunting down minions of darkness, he was glad to finally snatch a moment to indulge himself in some pie, the little roadside diner on the edge of Wisconsin a welcome reprieve from a week of fighting.

“Good God, I love this pie so much I wanna have sex with it.” He purred out, reaching for the icy glass of milk on the formica table in front of him and washing down the delectable treat.

Scowling over his milkshake, Castiel shook his head.

“That's disgusting.”

“Clearly, you've never seen _American Pie_ , Cas...” Sam interjected with a droll tone, not looking up from the screen of his laptop as he sipped on a cup of coffee, eyes scanning for leads on any interesting cases.

“What's that?” Castiel replied, confusion flashing across his face as he sipped on his beverage.

Looking up, Sam cast the angel a weak grin and rubbed the back of his head.

“It's... a movie that was pretty popular a few years ago, Cas. There's a running joke about this dateless nerd who's so desperate to have sex he basically sticks his dick in an apple pie.”

Dean grimaced. “Sam, don't remind me when I'm eatin'. Such blantant disrespect for pie, oof..”

Castiel's eyes widened and he looked positively disturbed at what he'd just heard.

“Why...why would anyone want to do that to a baked good?!”

“Ehh, it's just a movie, Cas. Don't over think it.” the younger Winchester reassured kindly, shutting down the laptop and reaching with his fork to spear a morsel of Ceasar salad. Chewing on a crouton, he leaned back in the booth and glanced up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

 

The trio sat in easy, comfortable silence enjoying their meals and the long overdue break from hunting, ocassionally watching the world go by outside the window, the view of the sleepy suburban town bathed in warm rays of glorious sunshine, the sky a perfect canvas of deep, cloudless blue.

The diner was sparsely populated, few people venturing out due to the heatwave that was currently sweeping the Midwest save for some old regulars propping up the bar, the immortal sound of the Glen Miller Orchestra's _In The Mood_ bouncing forth from the overhead speakers.

After about an hour of eating, idle chitchat and copious cups of coffee, Sam wiggled out of the plush red leather boot and headed for the bathroom, passing by the entrance to the diner where a little silver bell hung over the frame. As he passed, his gaze was suddenly drawn by a figure outside.

He blinked and rubbed his eyes, thinking it was a mere trick of the light.

In the car park, right in front of the Impala, a young woman stood rooted to the spot staring at it with an expression of utter astonishment etched upon her face. This wasn't new to Sam- that car was a veritable chick magnet at the best of times so it wasn't unusual to sometimes see someone stand and admire it- but the more he watched as the woman swept a hand over the freshly waxed bonnet, more details began to emerge that clouded his mind with confusion.

Even though the day was hot, dry and sunny, she was completely soaked from head to toe, the flimsy white hospital pyjamas she wore sticking to her like a second skin with her waist-length mousey brown hair plastered to her head. However, the most unsettling thing about her was the fact that both of her long, thin arms were clad in ragged, blood-stained bandages from elbow to wrist.

Sam felt an urge to go and help her but as he was about to push open the door, the woman slowly turned and staggered through, her stare wall-eyed and unfocused as she swayed unsteadily with each step. Sam saw that she was barefoot, her feet covered in dirt and scratches and as she passed him by without even noticing him, he grimaced as all manner of dark scenerios played through his head.

The woman gripped the back of a bar stool for support, grunting with exhertion as she slowly eased herself down into it before slumping at the counter and blinking rapidly. An elderly waitress emerged from the kitchen and did a double take upon seeing the stricken woman seated before her.

“Uhh.. are you alright, dear?” the waitress queried with concern.

The woman jumped, snapping abruptly from her stupor at the question. She licked her cracked lips, coughed and forced a pained smile.

“W-Water... I...I need water.” her voice was a low croak, hoarse and dry. She grimaced and rubbed her throat in a bid to clear it.

Sam took a wary step forward, watching as the waitress set a large pint glass of tap water down on the counter. It had barely settled when the drenched woman snatched it up and gulped down half the glass in one go, water slopping down her front as she drank with the desperation of someone dying of thirst.

“Uhh... miss?” Sam ventured, easing himself into the seat next to her; “...Are you in some kind of trouble?”

Glass poised at her lips, the young woman froze at the sound of his voice, her eyes wide and mouth agape as she turned her head sharply to meet his concerned gaze. Her eyes were a deep shade of green, rimmed with dark shadows and reddened with what appeared to be adject sleep deprevation and as Sam stared at her, her entire body began to tremble with fright.

“H-Holy-!” she gasped, looking at him with a mixture of shock and astonishment on her pale, gaunt face. Sam gave her a reassuring smile and reached out intending to touch her shoulder but the move only served to make her jump out of her seat, grabbing a butter knife from the counter as she scrambled to her feet and posed the weapon above her head.

“I-I thought it was just a coincidence!” she rasped in a panic, the knife shaking as her hand jerked with a violent tremor; “The Impala out front...! N-no! _No!_ This is not happening! _This is not happening!_ ”

Attention piqued by the sudden outburst, Castiel and Dean appeared at Sam's side, observing the scene with confusion and worry etched upon their faces. Whatever had happened to this poor woman must have been pretty damn traumatic to have her ellicit such a response towards seeing Sam but whatever it was, Dean stepped forward in a bid to defuse the situation.

“Hey..” he said evenly, hands raised in a defensive gesture as he moved to try and disarm her; “...It's okay. I'm not here to hurt you-”

His sentence was cut off by an almight shriek of terror as the woman stumbled backwards and toppled to the floor, her arms flailing wildly in her scramble to get away from him. By now, the other patrons of the diner had gathered around in a small crowd to watch this demented outburst with morbid curiosity.

“No.. no! This is not real! _It's not real!_ I'm having a psychotic break! Y-Yes...! This... this is all happening inside my head!” the woman choked out, curling into a ball with her knees to her chest, the knife dropping through the floor as she held her head in her hands and rocked back and forth.

“Supernatural's just a TV show...” she mumbled, scrunching her eyes shut and fisting her hair tightly; “...Dean Winchester is a fictional character...it's not real. _It's not real_..”

Over and over, she rocked herself, muttering the words like a mantra as she panicked and hyperventilated, the crowd around her chattering wildly at this display. Some even had the audacity to pull out their phones and attempt to record the incident but were quickly shot down by Sam's stern expression as he flashed his fake FBI badge and called for order.

Alarmed that she knew his name, Dean knelt on the floor and studied the terrified woman having a nervous breakdown right before his eyes. Up close, he saw that she appeared to be in her early twenties at a guess, scrawny and short and tinged with the kind of physique that suggested she was severely malnourished.

“I don't know how you know my name, lady, but whatever happened to you, it's over. C'mon... you need help and that's our job.” He said tersely, extending a hand to help her to her feet.

The woman swallowed and stopped shaking long enough to fix her emerald gaze upon his outstretched hand, chewing on her bottom lip as she considered him fearfully. Glancing around, she suddenly became aware of the fact that everyone was staring and with a grimace, gingerly rose to her feet.

“How..?” She started weakly, staring at Dean with incredality in her eyes; “...How do I know that I'm not dreaming? That this all isn't a sick joke my mind's playing on me?”Her voice was small and feeble and Dean could detect a distinct trace of an Irish accent come through despite the rasping words.

Sam stepped forward and placed a hand on the small of her back, urging her to step away from the judgemental gaze of the bemused diners. She shrank back and curled her arms around herself, staring at the ground.

“It's okay. We're here to help. Can you tell us your name at least?” he said gently as they passed through the diner's doors and out into the parking lot, coming to a stop before the Impala.

The woman sighed deeply and leaned on the bonnet with both arms for support, eyes scrunched shut against the unforgiving afternoon sun.

“E-Everlyn...”She said slowly, tensely; “M-my name is Everlyn Keogh... E-Evie to my friends.”

Joining them by the car, Castiel approached her and swept his eyes over her form, searching for signs of injury. Lingering on her dishivelled appearence and the bloodied bandages on her arms along with the fact she was barefoot and wearing grubby hospital pyjamas, the angel made a series of deductions in his mind, his brow furrowing.

“Start from the beginning, Everlyn.” He said evenly, folding his arms over his chest; “What happened that caused you to get you into such a state?”

Evie straightened her back and sat on the edge of the bonnet, breathing hard as she matched the angel's gaze. Swallowing back a nervous lump in her throat, she raked a bony hand through her sopping wet hair and shivered despite the heatwave.

“I...God, I can't believe I'm actually talking to freakin' _Castiel_...!”

Castiel and Dean shot each other worried glances. Something strange was afoot and it unnerved them that despite being a stranger in distress, this woman knew exactly who they were.

“Again, how the _hell_ do you know our names?”said Dean, a little rougher than he intended.

Evie lifted her head to look at him, her eyes wide and uncertain.

“It's...It's too weird, guys. Even for your day jobs.”

“Try us.” said Sam.

Exhaling sharply, Evie swept a hand over the car's bonnet, focusing on the feel of cool metal beneath her fingers in a bid to centre herself and stop from succumbing to another bout of full blown hysteria. Gathering her strength and willing herself to give words to the erratic thoughts rattling around her brain, she licked her lips and turned away from the trio's stares.

“Okay... _okay._ You guys... you're TV characters in my...world. Completely fictional but hugely entertaining to watch on-on a weekly basis. It's a show called Supernatural and it's kind of...kind of a big deal.”

Sam, Dean and Castiel looked at each other with perplexed expressions. Out of all the bizarre things they'd encountered over the many years of hunting together, that was a new one for the books. Evie bowed her head, shuffling her bare feet against the dirt on the ground and wiping at her nose with the back of her bandaged arm.

“I-I have no idea how I got here, guys.” she said after a long pause, staring intently at a random pebble; “Your guess is as good as mine. I just remember... _falling_. Falling for an eternity, waiting for the water to come up and smack me in the face... but just as I was about to touch the waves, it all went black. Next thing I knew, I woke up at the side of the road...right over there-” she said, pointing to an outcrop of bushes across the road from the diner.

“I-I got up, saw the diner and just figured I'd get help there. B-But... when I saw Baby...” Evie patted the car for effect, a tiny smile twinging at the corners of her mouth; “I kinda freaked out a little...”

Castiel cocked his head to the side, intrigued. “You say you fell... in your world... are you an angel?”

A shrill, weezing noise escaped Evie's nose and she buried her face in her hands, a short giggle flowing out of her mouth. “Ha, Castiel thinks I'm an angel! That's _hilerious_!” Dropping her hands down, she shook her head and thumbed her cracked bottom lip, thoughtful.

“No, Cas. I'm very much a squishy little mortal... or so, I _think_. Now, I'm not so sure. Nobody could've survived a fall like that one...” Her smile died; “...I made sure of that, I guess.”

“Wait..” Sam placed a hand on Evie's shoulder, his expression dark. “Evie...” His voice was low, almost a whisper. “...Did you try to _kill yourself_?”

Chewing on her lip, the young woman averted her gaze and slowly, timidly moved to place her hand over his, taking solace in the fact that he was indeed very real and pleasingly warm to the touch.

“...Yes. Yes, Sam, I did.”

“This is highly unusual.” Castiel said, rubbing his chin. “I've never heard of someone dying by suicide and traveling to an alternate dimension. Usually, people who...” he chose his words carefully; “...choose to end their lives go to neither Heaven or Hell.”

“Purgatory?” Dean queried, frowning.

“It depends. I admit, I haven't met any people who've done such a thing so I can't speak for them all but in my experience, the souls of the suicidal...I don't know where they end up, Dean.”

Evie glanced up at the sky, watching as the makings of clouds slowly began to form as the afternoon advanced into the makings of evening.

“Just a theory...” she said slowly; “...But maybe they go to the place where they feel the happiest...”

Dean wrinkled his nose.

“And our... _world_ , our lives make you happy?”

“Hey, I'm just a morbidly depressed fangirl from Dublin. Don't ask me how it works, Dean. Like I said, just a theory but yeah, I won't lie, your lives makes for some damn good television. The drama, the comedy, the action...” She gave Castiel and Dean a knowing grin despite the turmoil stirring in her chest; “...The _subtext_...”

 

“ _Subtext_?” Sam blinked at her.

 

“Never mind... so, what now?” Evie folded her arms over her chest and looked at the trio of men before her with an expectant gaze, the inital shock and panic upon seeing them all in the flesh swiftly dying away to hesitant acceptance. Trying to stay calm, she still couldn't quite believe that she was now in a dusty diner car-park, leaning against an incredible car having a conversation with three characters on a TV show that gave her the only true sense of tangible joy in her young life.

The thought was utterly ludicrous and she couldn't help the nervous laughter from bubbling up and escaping her lips, growing in volume until her legs buckled under her and she was full on guffawing.

Dean looked at her like she'd just sprouted two extra heads.

“What's so damn funny?”

Blinking back tears of laughter, she wiped her eyes and grinned sincerely for the first time in what felt like years. “This. Everything about this whole scenerio with us talking? It's just so insane and farfetched. I can't help it. Shit's funny, man! I've had some _weird_ days in my life but this one takes the fuckin' cake!” She coughed once more, her voice strengthening a little; “I-I'm sorry for actin' the maggot and makin' a holy show of myself back there, guys...I always hoped if I-I ever met you three I'd conduct myself with at least _some_ level of dignity...”

“It's fine.” Castiel said kindly; “You've obviously had a rough time of things lately. We don't judge.”

Evie chuckled softly. “Thanks, Cas.” Glancing around the car-park, she absently scratched at the bandages on her left wrist, frowning slightly.

“So, what now? I-I don't exactly have anywhere I can go. I mean, Christ, up until today I've never even been outside Ireland! I...I don't know anyone around here, guys. I know it's a lot to ask but...” she trailed off and sighed deeply, pushing her hair from her eyes.

Dean peered at Sam with a mixed expression.

“What do you think, Sammy?”

“Well, we can't just leave her here. She's obviously in distress and needs help so...so, let's get back to the bunker and figure something out.”

Perking up slightly, Evie gave the trio of men before her a sidelong expression.

“Bunker, you say? Interesting...” She scratched her chin in thought; “So that would place this time line somewhere around the whole _Mark of Cain_ story arc...”

Dean's eyes widened and he instinctively grabbed his arm despite the Mark being long since eradicated. Stepping forward, jaw clenched into a hard line, he stared down the young woman with a haughty scowl, suspision growing within him.

“How the _hell_ do you know that?!”

 

Evie matched his gaze and stood her ground.

 

“Believe me or don't, I'm telling the truth, Dean. Where I come from, your _entire lives_ have played out every Friday night at 9pm on Netflix for the past 13 years. I mean, I've binged watched up to season ten already so I know quite a lot about you guys and what you're up against. I won't get into all the fandom stuff on Tumblr, though...shit's _freaky._ But yeah, I've seen you all go through the ringer and then some. Who knows, I might actually be helpful to you guys. I've...I've read all the tie-in books, interviews, fan theories, Wikipedia articles and a lot of _very_ questionable fanfiction so make of that what you will.”

“...Fanfiction?” Castiel said, his gaze troubled.

Evie bowed her head and tried not to chuckle. “Yeah, Cas... It's...um...you _really_ don't wanna know about that side of things...”

“Okay, say we did believe you on this. What happens next for us? Who's the next big bad? If you know so much of what lies ahead, your knowledge could be invaluable.” said Sam.

Evie thought for a moment, her emerald gaze focused on a spot in the crook of Dean's arm. He tensed at that and roughly pulled down his sleeve, frowning at her. The months after purging The Darkness and the whole tricky business of his time as a demon was a sore point for him, one he didn't appreciate being reminded of.

“Well...umm... how are things with you now?” Evie queried, her green eyes searching Dean's. “Any urges to go sing kareoke with Crowley and hook up with random, nameless women?”

“I... _Shut up!_ ”Dean growled, storming around to the driver's seat and yanking the door open. He sat breathing heavily in the seat, white-knuckling the steering wheel.

 

He didn't like this one bit. A strange woman just appears from nowhere and seems to know _everything_ about the lives of him, Sam and Castiel? It rubbed him the wrong way and he couldn't help the trepidation bubble in his stomach as he watched Castiel drape his trenchcoat over Evie's shoulders, gently easing her into the backseat of the Impala.

Peering around the interior of the car with an awestruck expression, the young woman brushed her fingers over the supple leather seats, feeling them out and biting her bottom lip with ill-diguised excitement as she leaned back and took it all in.

“Let's get one thing straight here...” Dean said with ill-disguised anger; “...You think you know us but you _don't_. So...so our lives are just simple entertainment to you?! Bullshit. You don't know how hard it is being a hunter so don't sit there and think it's all a big ol' barrell of laughs-”

“Dean, don't-” Sam interjected but Dean continued to glare at the woman in the backseat.

“I never said I did, Dean.” Evie's face was tense as she stared right back; “Yes, I enjoy watching your lives play out but the whole reason I do is because I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, just how hard it is coping with life. I've got _demons_ in me, Dean.” she turned to Sam and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“You think being tortured by Lucifer is bad? I live worse trauma every waking moment of my pitiful existence. Scoff if you want but this show- your stories? They've been the only thing keeping me sane when my entire world is collasping around me.”

Sam swallowed, his mind attempting to summon dark imagery from the blackened depths of that horrific, turbulent time in his life when he was at Satan's mercy. Pushing it down, he watched as Evie glared at Dean, her cracked lips thinning and her deep green eyes burning with indignation. Slowly, he placed his hand upon hers and patted it reassuringly.

“I'm sorry. Don't mind Dean, he's being a jerk. You can stay.”

 

“Sammy-” Dean started but the younger Winchester gave him a warning look.

“Thank you.” Evie's face relaxed into a tiny smile; “No wonder you're my favorite, Moose.”

Sam shook his head and grinned. “Seriously? You hear that, Dean? I'm her favorite!”

“Shut your cakehole, Sam...” Dean grumbled, shifting the car into gear and pulling out of the car-park. He glared out of the window, saying no more as he steered the Impala out onto the main road heading towards the bunker.

 

Yawning and stretching cat-like in the backseat, Evie rubbed her eyes and pulled Castiel's trenchcoat over herself like a makeshift blanket, a sudden wave of exhaustion washing over her. She was about to shut her eyes and attempt some semblance of sleep whilst the car speed through rural Wisconsin but just as she did so, Castiel asked her a question.

“Tell us about yourself, Everlyn.” His voice was kind and patient and it made her smile despite the growing fatigue she felt.

“Meh, not much to tell.” She rubbed her face, shifting grit from the corners of her eyes; “In case you haven't guessed from my accent, I'm from Dublin, from a shitty little coastal town where the only things to do for any sort of entertainment is to get black out drunk, start a fight with a junkie and go around setting cars on fire.”

“It can't be _that_ bad, Evie!” Sam mused in the front, watching her in the rearview mirror.

“Want a bet? In one year alone, my granmother had two cars stolen out of her driveway and a brick thrown through her front window. I swear, that town is a law unto itself... but hey, the beach is kinda nice so silver linin's an' all that shite...”

“Do you have any family we can try and contact?” Castiel queried, studying her with quiet interest.

Evie sighed and hitched the coat up to her chin.

“Just my granmother, really. My Ma died five years ago and my father... well, he dropped dead about two months back. I'm still ragin' about it. That bastard should've suffered and instead he goes out on a fucking _heart attack_? Urgh...” she thumped her fist against the seat and scowled at the back of Dean's head.

“My one regret is I didn't put him in the ground myself.”

 

“Bad relationship?” Sam said carefully, turning in his seat to look at her with concern in his hazel eyes. The young woman now stared angrily out the window, her jaw tensed and the knots of muscle in her neck straining hard. She exhaled sharply, pushing her fingers into her eyes before she cracked a mirthless smile.

“No offense, Sammy, but I'm _really_ not in the humor for swapping 'Deadbeat Dad' stories right about now. All I'll say is good riddence to bad news and leave it at that.” Evie shifted in the seat and curled up next to Castiel.

“If y'all don't mind, I'm really tired so I'm gonna try and get some sleep, okay?”

 

Castiel nodded and moved to give her more space. She spoke no more after that, eventually winding up with her head resting on his shoulder as the steady rumble of the Impala lulled her into an uneasy slumber. The angel watched over her as she slept, studying the hard angles of her face, spidery blue veins just visable under papery thin skin that appeared bruised and dehydrated.

 

Clearly, she had been through an awful lot and Castiel quietly wondered if his grace would be enough to heal the physical neglect her body strained under. His blue eyes lingered on the bloodied bandages wrapped snuggly around both her arms and his heart went out to her. It worried him that she had been in so much pain in life that she felt the need to end it.

He told himself to thread carefully, that it was a delicate issue not to be treated lightly...

\----------

It was several hours later, under the cover of darkness, when the Impala finally rolled up outside the bunker. Killing the engine, Dean got out, slamming the door behind him as he headed inside in a huff, leaving Sam and Castiel to deal with the sleeping woman in the backseat.

Not wishing to disturb her, Castiel gingerly wound his arms around her tiny frame, pulling her into his lap before manovering out of the backseat with some degree of difficulty, holding her against his chest as he stood in front of the bunker.

“What a day this is turning out to be...” Sam mused, shadowing the angel as he followed Dean inside.

Castiel headed towards the bedrooms, selecting the empty one next to Sam's and gently nudged the door open with his foot. Laying the stricken young woman down softly on the bed, he sat on the edge and peered at her form as she lay curled up against the sheets, her spindly fingers tightly gripping his trenchcoat around herself as her brows furrowed with a turbulent dream.

“Any ideas?” Sam queried, folding his arms and leaning against the door frame; “I'm fresh out.”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Sam...”Castiel sighed, moving to slowly pry his trenchcoat from Evie's fingers, noticing that the knuckles were ragged and bruised and her nails caked with dirt. “...She's clearly suffered dearly in the life she lead before she came here. I want to help but my grace can only heal so much.”

Sam nodded and sat down in the chair next to the bedside locker, wearily rubbing his face. “ Yeah. Yeah, it's the psychological torture that gets you..”

“I'll need to remove these bandages to fully assess the damage.” Castiel moved to take Evie's left arm in his lap, fingers moving delicately to unwind a strip of grubby gauze without rousing her but just as he began to reveal the flesh underneath, Evie suddenly sat bolt upright and grabbed him with a grip that was hard enough to hurt, her nails biting into his wrist as her hand twisted roughly in a bid to deter his actions.

She was breathing hard, her gaze unfocused and wild.

“M..Misha...?!” She blinked at him, wide-eyed and disorientated. Sam got out of the chair and knelt at the edge of the bed.

“Everlyn? _Evie_?” He said slowly; “Evie, it's us- Sam and Castiel. Do you remember where you are?”

Anger flashed across her face and she grabbed Castiel by a fistful of his shirt, pulling him to her until their noses almost touched. “ _Why are you touching my bandages?!”_ She growled out, her eyes bright with rage as they met with Castiel's calm baby blues.

The angel, ever unflappable, simply placed his hands on hers and slowly eased himself from her grip. “I need to see your wounds. I can heal you if you just stay calm.”

Evie tensed and flinched from his touch, glancing at Sam with an uneasy expression. Swallowing hard, she exhaled sharply and conceeded defeat, slumping against the wooden headboard, her arms going limp in Castiel's lap.

“I...Nobody's seen...!” she whispered softly, scrunching her eyes shut in a bid to keep the two men from seeing her cry. “Fuck...alright. _Alright_...”

“It's going to be okay, Evie. I promise.” Sam said meaningfully, reaching to squeeze her shoulder in a comforting gesture, his smile pained as he watched Castiel move in slow, careful movements to unwind the dirty bandages that snaked around her arms. Sam sucked in a breath, trying to keep his face neutral but it was a hard thing to do in light of the sight before him:

Starting from the crock of Evie's elbows and going right down to the edge of her palms, not a single piece of the milky pale of her flesh was without a scar.

 

Some of them were clearly old, the spidery pink lines fading with time into flashes of shiny silver, shallow surface wounds that still left a mark but the rest? The rest were fresh red keloids, raised bumps that stood out clear as day to show deep, angry wounds that could only have been inflicted recently with a very sharp implement but what really gave Sam pause for thought was the fact that the freshest cut ran vertically from elbow to wrist, the sides of the deep laceration held together with thick, chunky black stitches and at least a hundred Steri-Strips, all caked with dried blood and dirt.

A lump formed in the back of Sam's throat and he momentarily averted his gaze to the floor.

That one wound was full of malicious intent. No hesitation marks and purposely done in such a way to insure maximun blood loss, unlike a standard suicide attempt which would normally have the wounds crossing horizontally, usually along the wrists.

Serious but survivable.

But this? This was the wound of a woman _hellbent_ on dying, of someone so despairing that a permanent solution was the only viable option.

Forcing himself to look at her, Sam inhaled a deep breath and put on a weak smile in a bid to reassure Evie and keep her calm as Castiel silently worked to heal her injuries. The minutes ticked by at an achingly slow pace, Evie's emerald gaze fixed sternly at a framed painting of a alpine scene hanging on the opposite wall.

 

“Sam...” Castiel said after an age spent hunched over as he worked on Evie; “...This is a mortal wound. I've healed the initial injury but the scar will forever remain on her arm.”

“What does that mean?” Evie shifted slightly, pulling her arms towards her to inspect the angel's work. She jumped, startled to see that all her old scars, the faint and faded and the newer raised bumps had vanished, leaving behind nothing more than tired, pale flesh unblemished but for the slightest smattering of freckles.

The only indication that there was any wound at all was a long, thin pink line running vertically down her arm, though the stitches still remained very much in place. Evie frowned and poked it cautiously. Gone was the tangible ache she'd felt since first waking up in a daze on the side of the road and instead was only a slight chill to the healed skin.

She looked at Castiel for a long moment, searching for any trace of judgement or condemnation in his intense blue gaze but there was none, only quiet concern, his face impassive.

“Uh... thank you, Cas...”Evie said shakily, clutching her arm to her chest and forcing herself to smile despite her unease. The angel nodded, the corners of his lips twitching just enough to relax into a sympathetic expression.

“It's no trouble.” He stood up and turned to Sam. “Can you get me some scissors? I need to remove the stitches.”

“There's some here, Cas...” Sam said quietly, reaching into the drawer of the bedside locker and producing a first aid kit. Opening it, he fished out a pair of needle-nose scissors and hand them to the angel, who extended his hand to Evie.

“Please.”

She nodded mutely and surrendered her arm, letting him deftly pick the stitches loose until nothing remained but the Steri-Strips, which he swiftly removed and rubbed away the sticky residue with an alcohol wipe.

“You won't like what I'm about to say, Everlyn, but I do so because your safety is paramount.” Castiel said evenly, placing the scissors back into the kit and rising to his full height. He turned to Sam and bowed his head low.

“Every single blade in this bunker needs to be placed under lock and key.”

Evie groaned loudly and rubbed her temples.

“Can't say I blame you, Cas and I'll no doubt thank you for it at some point but right now? You honestly remind me of that crotchetty ol' bitch on the psych ward. Couldn't even get a plastic knife to butter my bleedin' toast in the mornin's...”

“It's only until we can be sure you're alright, Everlyn-”

“ _It's Evie_!” She snapped. Flapping her lips with irritation, she sunk back against the headboard and closed her eyes, her expression softening slightly as she massaged her forehead. “Sorry... I...I know I'm fucked up, guys, so I get the need for caution but I'll-I'll be okay.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sam offered, resting his elbows on the edge of the bed.

Evie shook her head and folded her arms over her chest.

“Kind offer, Sam, but...I'm just not in the mood right now.”She sniffed roughly, plucking at a corner of her flimsy white top and scowling as she felt the still-moist fabric slip through her fingers.

“I need a hot shower and a stiff drink in that order. Maybe... something to eat?”

Castiel gave her a warm smile.

“That can all be easily arranged. I'll go find some towels.” Taking up his trenchcoat, the angel tucked the first aid kit into one of the pockets and nodded to Sam before heading out the door and down the hallway, leaving them both alone in tense, uncomfortable silence.

 

Feeling his legs ache from sitting on the floor, Sam got unsteadily to his feet and walked towards the closet, searching amongst the shelves of old clothing and miscellanious items he and Dean had stored within it for something to replace Evie's sodden hospital robes. Grabbing a pair of grey sweatpants, a old t-shirt and an unused pair of flip-flops, he set them down on the chair by the bed and let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

“These will do for now... uh, it's kinda late but in the morning, I can bring you into town to get some proper clothes, okay?”

Evie nodded and slowly swung her legs out of the bed, getting to her feet. Sam noticed she was a lot shorter than he'd expected, a full head and a half smaller than himself. She studied his face for a moment, pushing her hair from her eyes.

“Does it ever get better, Sam?” she said quietly.

“Evie...” Sam regarded her with pity, his heart lurching inside his chest. She looked so tiny and frail, like a strong gust of wind would knock her down and shatter her into a million pieces. Despite his unease over the seriousness of the whole situation, he felt that this woman could use some kindness and so, slowly, he stepped forward and enveloped her in an embrace.

Evie stiffened at this, clearly unused to such a display of comfort. After a few seconds, though, she managed to relax and her arms moved to wind around his waist, her face buried in his chest. She willed herself not to give into the urge to sob but it was fruitless and as she felt Sam hold her with a clear need to comfort her from all her troubles, she felt so overwelmed that the tears freely fell, staining the front of his shirt.

Sam rubbed her back soothingly, gently rocking her against him as she cried and got it all out.

Eventually, she took a step back from him as Castiel returned with an arm full of towels, her hands furiously scrapping away the evidence of her tears as she took a shaky breath and bounced on the balls of her feet trying to steel her nerves.

“Are you alright?” the angel asked, sensing her distress.

Evie bit her bottom lip and gave him a lopsided humorless grin. “In a word, Cas, no. But thanks for askin'.” She took the bundle of towels from his hands and headed towards the door.

“I won't be long. Don't wanna use up all your hot water-”

“It's fine, Evie. Take as long as you need. Bathroom's at the end of the hall.” Sam said sincerely, rubbing the back of his head.

Evie nodded and gave a feeble wave before shutting the door behind her and heading in search of the forgiving waters of the shower. Winded from all that had just occured, Sam slumped onto the end of the bed and grimaced, running his hands through his hair before hanging his head in them and letting out a low groan.

“Sam?” Castiel queried, sitting down beside him.

“I've lost a lot of people in my life, Cas.” Sam sighed; “I've dealt with pain and trauma in my own ways but I... _this_? I've never had any experience of helping someone who tried to take that particular road to self-destruction. Help me out, man. What do I do?”

“Just be there for her, Sam. Be kind. She is fighting an intense internal battle and needs all the allies she can get. If you can get her to open up and talk, that will also help. For now, though, I think you should go into the kitchen and make her some food.” Castiel chuckled softly; “I'm still banned from using the oven after I burnt that pie last week...”

Sam smiled in spite of himself. If they were going to help this strange young lady who had wandered into their midst, they were going to need all the laughter they could get...

 

\---------------

 

It was a little after 11pm when Dean emerged from his bedroom clad in baggy sweats and a black t-shirt, padding barefoot into the kitchen in search of a much needed beer.

Still unnerved by how much Evie knew about him and the other occupants of the bunker, he tried hard to push the doubts in his mind down but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling that something troublesome was afoot. So he was a character on a TV show in her world? What a weird thing to hear but Dean supposed, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't that farfetched to think there might be some crazy, mixed up universe where that fact was true.

Whatever the truth was, all he knew was that he needed to find some way of getting Evie back to her own world. It was clear she didn't belong here and whilst he felt a pang of guilt at that thought, ultimately, he knew it would be best for them all.

With no idea if she could even hold her own in a fight, she could be a major liability on hunts and Dean wasn't at all prepared to take that risk on an unskilled stranger, especially when she was clearly suffering from a whole laundry list of mental problems.

With a weary sigh, he pulled open the fridge door and grabbed a beer only to pause as he noticed Sam by the oven, peering intently through the window to check that the frozen pizza inside wasn't burning.

“I thought you hated those..” Dean quipped, twisting the cap off the beer and draining half the bottle in one gulp.

“It's for our guest. She's had a long day so I figured she might be hungry.”

“Sam...” Dean wiped foam off his top lip, regarding his little brother with a worried expression; “...You really think it's a good idea for this chick to stay here? Shouldn't we take her to a hospital or something?”

Sam straightened and opened the oven door, pulling out the pizza and moving it to a large plate before dividing it up into slices. “I have thought about it, Dean, but I honestly don't think it'll help. I doubt she'd appreciate going back to an institute and as I said earlier, her knowledge could be useful.”

“If you say so, Sammy.” Dean took another swig of beer; “She's still a liability. We can't take her hunting- she'll end up getting herself killed.”

“If you have any helpful suggestions, Dean, I'm all ears but right now I just want to make her comfortable. We really need to go on a supply run in the morning...” Sam set the plate of pizza down on the kitchen table and glanced at the clock.

Evie had been in the shower for nearly an hour but he couldn't really blame her. She'd been through a lot and Lord knows he knew how comforting a blisteringly hot shower could be. Still, the pizza would be cold before long so Sam decided to go and knock on the bathroom door.

 

“Evie?” Sam kept his voice light; “Evie, I've got a pizza waiting for you.”

The door opened and the young woman poked her head out, hair half-hidden beneath a fluffy green towel. There was a flush of pink to her face from the heat and she looked a lot brighter than she'd been earlier. Sam noticed her bare shoulders were covered with freckles and he couldn't help but smile.

“Pizza? What kind?” she said, sounding tired.

“Uhh, just plain ol' pepperoni. I admit, there's not a lot in the fridge but we can go into town tomorrow and pick up some stuff. Whatever you want. My treat.”

Evie smiled and pushed a stray lock of hair behind her left ear. “You really don't have to do that, Sam.”

“It's fine. No big deal.” He shuffled awkwardly on his feet and glanced down the hallway towards the kitchen. “Pizza's going cold.”

“Sure, sure! I'll just be a minute!” the young woman stepped out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, a long brown towel wrapped around her tiny frame, comically large and practically dragging along the floor as she headed towards the guest bedroom, her back to him.

It was then that Sam noticed the hint of a large tattoo peering out above the edges of her towel. Thick black lines crossed her shoulder blades in what appeared to be, on first glance, a Devil's Trap symbol. He arched an eyebrow. _Curious choice for a tattoo..._ he thought to himself but shook his head and returned to the kitchen, pulling a bottle of cheap whiskey from the liquor cabinet and placing two tumblers down on the table next to the pizza.

He poured himself a shot and downed it in one, wincing as the alcohol burned on the way to his stomach.

Sam knew if they were to have any hope of helping Evie he would have to ask a series of uncomfortable questions and the thought made him grimace just as hard as the cheap whiskey but he knew it had to be done at some point. Still, for tonight anyways, he would do his best to make her feel welcomed.

 

“Hey.”

He turned at the sound of her voice, seeing Evie standing in the kitchen doorway clad in the spare clothing he had given her. Sam's mood lightened in an instant and he couldn't help the chuckle escape his mouth at the sight of her.

The sweatpants hung low on her bony hips, the strings drawn as tight as they could go yet the pants still threatening to go South. The well-worn Led Zepplin t-shirt swamped her frame, far too big for her small physique and she had swept her hair up into a messy bun, several damp strands idly falling around her face.

“Feck off, Sam. Not my fault you're ten feet tall!” she said with a half-scowl, hitching up her sweatpants and sitting down at the table, raising a slice of pizza to her mouth. She took a bite and chewed it, watching Sam all the while.

“You.. uh.. you want a drink?” He asked, holding up the bottle of whiskey. She peered at it and wrinkled her nose.

“I've never even heard of that brand...”

“Yeah, heh. It's...it's terrible, don't drink this-” Sam started but was cut off by Evie yanking the bottle from his hand, uncorking it and taking a massive swig. He stared at her, wide-eyed, as she swallowed the alcohol with barely a flinch, pausing to scan the label before taking another large mouthful.

“You...! How can you even _stomach_ that?!”

“Trust me, Sam..” Evie wiped her mouth on the back of her hand; “I've tasted worst. Not bad. Kinda burns but sure, that's the whole point- to kill the things on the inside.”

“Look, I know you've had a rough time of things an' all but... you sure drinking crappy whiskey is the answer?”Sam ventured.

“I'll settle for _good_ whiskey, Sam. Works for me.” Evie took another bite of pizza; “If you want, we can make a game of it- last person to puke wins.”

“I'm sure you're joking-”

“I _never_ joke about alcohol, Sam.”Evie slammed the whiskey bottle down on the table, corked it and pushed it aside. She picked up the plate of half-eaten pizza and headed towards the trash can, pushing it in before dumping the plate in the sink and folding her arms.

“That pizza was _terrible_ , by the way.”

“Yeah, sorry. We haven't been food shopping yet. I would've made something from scratch but there's not much in the fridge unless you like frozen burritos.”

She blanched. “ _Frozen_ burritos? Jaysus, that's grim.”

Sam rubbed the back of his head, a wave of embarassment washing over him. They so rarely had guests in the bunker so to be caught out with a nearly bare pantry was somewhat humiliating. Sighing, he took to rummaging through the overhead cabinets but could only find dusty tins of fruit and cans of Spam.

Sensing his unease, Evie's face relaxed and she chuckled, reaching up to pat his shoulder.

“Hey, don't worry about it, Sam. I wasn't all that hungry anyways. C'mon, let's go find a shitty movie to watch for a bit. I take it the bunker has Netflix?”

Shoulders slackening, Sam smiled in spite of himself and nodded.

“Heh, sure. What are you in the mood for?”

She shrugged.

“I normally go for _really_ shitty B-movies, y'know, like _Sharknado_ or stuff like that. I don't know, Sam. Something brainless and stupid but with just enough dumb jokes to get a chuckle out of me.”

Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Sam glanced up at the ceiling for a moment.

“...Have you ever seen the _American Pie_ movies?”

Evie grinned and let out a breezy laugh, pushing several stray locks of brown hair from her eyes.

“Oh, God, yeah! I loved the first one. Stifler cracks me up!”

 

Visibly relaxing at that, Sam inclined his head and motioned for her to follow him as he padded down the hallway towards the living room to find Dean reclining on the couch, a look of abject boredom etched on his face as he struggled to focus on some mindless reality show playing on the TV. Castiel sat quietly on an armchair in the corner, absorbed in one of the several thousand dusty books that took up much of the space in the library bookshelves. Upon Sam and Evie enter the room, the angel looked up and regarded them both with a calm smile, closing his book and resting it attop a side table.

“How are you feeling, Evie?” He asked kindly.

Evie rubbed her left arm and shrugged, her expression muted. “Stable.. for now, anyways. I gotta say, though, the pressure from that shower?” She made a circle with thumb and forefinger; _“...Perfection.”_

“What are you watching?” Sam inquired, glancing at the TV. He wrinkled his nose and folded his arms, giving Dean a bemused look.

“Keeping Up With The Kardashians? _Seriously_?”

“Hey, it's entertaining! Not gonna lie, Sammy, they're also kinda hot-”

“Does anyone else feel the need to _vomit_? No? Just me?”Evie deadpanned, narrowing her eyes at the screen showing Kim Kardasian engaging in an impromptu fashion show in a gigantic white walk-in closet heaving with gaudy designer gear.

“You're feeling nauseous?” Castiel rose from his seat, brows knitted with concern. Evie's expression softened and she shook her head.

“I _really_ need to school you in the language of sarcasm, Cas. Appreciate the concern, though. I'm alright for the most part.”

She crossed towards the sofa, causing Dean to sit up and shuffle aside to give her space to sit down. Pulling her knees to her chest, she sat perched on the soft leather and leaned back, regarding the older of the two Winchesters with a curious expression.

“Never had you down as liking trashy reality TV, Dean.”

“There's nothing else on.” He mumbled, reaching for the remote and passing it to her, stretching cat-like as a long, loud yawn escaped his lips. “Watch whatever you want, I'm gonna hit the sack.”

Dean moved to get up but Evie's thin fingers grasped his wrist with a surprisingly firm grip. She stared at him intently, her deep green eyes meeting his and she swallowed.

“I know you don't trust me, Dean. I wouldn't either if I were you but if you'll let me, I'll try my best to make myself useful during my time in this world.”

Dean searched her gaze. There was hesitation behind her eyes, uncertainty and doubt and a knot of guilt began to form in his stomach from all the uneasy thoughts that had been growing within him in the hours since they met.

“That's all I ask.” He stated roughly, forcing a smile. “Talk to you tomorrow. Try an' get some sleep. You look like hammered shit.”

Evie smirked. “Careful, now, Dean. Flattery will get you _everywhere!_ ”

Rolling his eyes, Dean muttered a “good night” and left his brother, Evie and the angel in charge of the TV, retreating to the quiet of his bedroom. Settling down on the sofa next to the young woman, Sam made himself comfortable and took the remote, firing up the Netflix menu and scrolling through the Comedy section.

“What are we watching?” Castiel queried, returning to his spot in the armchair.

“ _American Pie_. You're in for a treat, Cas. It's hysterical.” Evie grinned.

 

Castiel blanched, remembering the brief conversation he and Sam had that afternoon in the diner.

“I..I do not wish to watch a man fornicate with a baked good, Evie.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Oh, c'mon! It's just a hilarious visual gag, Cas. Give it a shot. You might enjoy it if you try.”

The angel sighed. “Forgive me if I don't find the combination of pie and genitalia to be an appealing thought.”

“Clearly you've never tried introducing food into your sex life, Cas...messy but tons of fun!” Evie rubbed her nose and studied Sam's face, her expression bemused at Castiel's obvious unease over the premise of the movie.

“You still wanna watch this?” said Sam.

“Sure, Sammy. I doubt I'll sleep easy tonight so I might as well kick back and stay up watching Netflix for the time being.” She shifted a little in her seat, daring to edge closer to him and lean against his strong arms, peering up at him with the ghosts of fatigue in her eyes, still rimmed with dark circles but noticably healthier than before.

The close proximity didn't go unnoticed by Sam. Whilst he was grateful for her feeling at ease around him, he was careful to tell himself not to give her any mixed signals or false hope, not wishing to compound her emotional distress any further. Even so, as they settled down to enjoy the movie starting on the screen, he was all too aware of feeling her relax next to him.

Sam wondered how long it had been since she'd dropped her guard and kicked back like this.

 _I should talk to her more in the morning..._ he thought to himself, intrigued by the mystery around her origins and where she came from. No doubt it would make for some uncomfortable conversation at times but for now, he would cross that bridge when he came to it...

 

\------

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

**CHAPTER TWO**

After marathoning all three _American Pie_ movies back to back, three episodes the ninth season of _Rupaul's Drag Race_ and a few cheesy informercials, it was well into the wee hours of the morning when Evie eventually succumbed to exhaustion, falling into an uneasy sleep on the couch, curled up in a tight ball with her head resting on Sam's shoulder.

The only sounds were that of static from the TV mingling with the low, steady rythmn of Sam and Evie's breathing as they slept together on the couch, snoring gently.

Sometime around mid-day, Dean had woken up and bemused at finding his brother and their guest cosied up on the couch together, took to giving a hard poke to Sam's ribs in a bid to waken him.

Bolting awake with a start, Sam's arms flailed wildly in alarm at the sudden interuption but he quickly relaxed upon seeing Dean standing before him pursing his lips.

“Sammy, it's almost noon. Get up, we need supplies.” The older Winchester said sternly, throwing Sam's coat at him and hitting him square in the face.

“Right, right!” Sam mumbled, still in a daze as he let a yawn breech his lips and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before stretching, wincing as his muscles strained from lying awkwardly on the couch for several hours.

He glanced down at Evie, watching her eyelids twitch under several strands of dull brown hair strewn haphazardly across her face which was etched with the ghosts of a turbulent dream.

Without really giving much thought to the action in his freshly awakened state, Sam moved to gently brush his hand across her face, feeling the hard angle of her cheekbones, so painfully thin and sharp against his fingers as he swept away the hair.

As his digits slowly traced down the line of her jaw, Evie's eyes snapped open and she stared up at him, mildly startled by his featherlite touch.

Sam quickly drew his hand back and cast her an awkward smile, feeling his cheeks grow hot.

“Uh, hey!” He said, keeping his tone light and breezy; “Time to get up. It's getting pretty late.”

Evie blinked and wiped her face on the back of her hands, sleepy and perplexed.

“Really? Shame, that was probably the best night's sleep I've had in months...” she said wearily, slowly sitting upright on the couch.

Taking in the somewhat familiar surroundings of the bunker's spacious living room, she massaged her temples and stood up, swaying slightly as the blood rushed back to her legs.

Glancing at the empty armchair in the corner, she frowned.

“Where's Cas?”

“He's just putting gas in the car.” Dean replied, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the garage; “I'll give you a minute to wake up. We're heading into Milwakee so if you need anything, we can stop by the Walmart.”

Evie chewed on her bottom lip, staring down at the floor.

“I-I don't have any money, Dean.” She said quietly; “How can I even afford-”

“Three words, Evie.” said Sam, hints of a smirk dippling the corners of his mouth; “ _Credit card fraud_. It's a wonderful thing.”

Evie chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of her head.

“Figures... bit early in the day for grand larceny, don't ya think?”

Sam's face softened and he stood up, reaching into the back of his jeans.

“Don't worry 'bout it, Evie.”

He pulled out his wallet and Evie noticed that it was in a sorry state, a ragged, tattered square of faded brown leather flecked with dried in blood, dirt and God-knows-what other stains, practically falling apart at the seams. Thumbing through the battered compartments, he pulled out a pristine white Mastercard and handed it to Evie.

“Here. I haven't used this one. It has a pretty hefty limit so you shouldn't have any problems buying what you need.”

Turning it around in her hand, Evie peered at him, a crinkle in her brow.

“Sam-”

“Please, I insist. The PIN code is 1988.” Sam replied, regarding her warmly.

The young woman gave a light laugh and shook her head.

“Oh, good. That'll be easy enough to remember. It's only the year I was born!”

Upon hearing that, both Sam and Dean each did a double take, their eyes growing wide.

“ _Seriously?!_ ” Dean said, shocked at her admission. “No offense, but I honestly thought you were a teenager!”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” Evie said with a grin, amused by his stunned reaction as she slid the credit card into the pocket of her sweatpants and folded her arms over her chest. “All the women in my immediate family are wee slips of things, Dean. Genetics, I guess. Mind you, I was also born about six weeks premature so that kinda played a part in me being practically a midget...”

Dean shook his head.

“The more you know...!”

“It's kind of annoying being this small.” Evie sighed, hands on her boney hips; “If I had a euro for every time a barman mistook me for a twelve year old... _urgh_.”

“If you want, I'll be happy to hook you up with some ID cards.” Sam offered, smiling broadly as the not-quite-so-young-after-all woman's eyes lit up with glee.

“Ooh, _sweet!_ Do I get a fake FBI badge?!”

“Whatever you want, Evie. It's no trouble.”

“Thanks, Sammy!” Her grin was wide and wholesome and Sam felt a rush of pride knowing he was the one to put it on her face. She hastily flung her arms around his neck, standing on tip-toes to pull him into a grateful hug, holding on tightly as her arms slipped down to wind around his waist.

“You really are far too kind to me.” she turned to Dean and briefly dropped her gaze to a random button on his orange flannel shirt. “Both of you. I know I don't deserve any of this but...but...” Evie trailed off, unable to finish her sentance as a rush of gratitude flooded her and caused her to blush.

She was not at all used to such overt displays of kindness such as the ones currently being bestowed upon her by the men in her midst. It was unfamiliar territory to her and whilst she was eternally grateful to the Winchesters for their generosity, it took a few moments to fully comprehend that, for the first time in what felt like years, there were people willing to help her out of genuine concern and care, no visable strings attached.

Evie sniffled slightly and scrubbed at her nose, holding back the urge to cry but at least this time around, her tears would come from a place of happiness for once.

“There's fuck all in the fridge so we'll grab some grub in town. _Move out!_ ” Dean said, turning sharply on his heels and heading towards the garage.

After slipping her feet into the absurdly oversized pair of black flip-flops Sam had procurred for her the previous night, Evie tugged a grey flannel shirt Dean had kindly donated over her thin shoulders and joined him, Sam and Castiel in the Impala, settling herself down into the backseat next to the angel as Dean rolled the car out of the garage and steered onto the road towards Milwakee.

“Y'know, Evie, you have a curious accent.”Castiel ventured after they'd been on the road for about fiftheen minutes; “I can't say I'm all that familiar with it but it's quite pleasing to hear you talk.”

Hands flying to her face, Evie couldn't help a peel of giggles escape her lips and she gave the blue eyed man a light slap on the arm. “I'm well aware of that fact, Cas. Not to brag but this accent has gotten me laid quite a few times, heh!”

Dean quirked an eyebrow, watching the pair from the rear view window.

“Yeah, everyone loves the Irish...!” he drawled.

“Ireland, huh? I've never been. What's it like?” Sam asked, joining the conversation by hooking his arm over the front passenger seat and resting his chin on top of it.

Evie's giggles hushed slightly and she absently played with a stray lock of hair, peaking at him through her eyelashes as she leaned back against the warm leather benchseat.

“S'alright, I guess. I was born and raised there so I'm sorta inclined to be biased towards the place being a bit dull at times but it's not _all_ bad, really. The weather has a tendency to be reliably shite at the best of times and God knows my hometown is a festering shithole that needs to be nuked from orbit but as a whole, Ireland does have its' good points-”

“Yeah, like some _fantastic_ whiskey!” Dean quipped from the driver's seat, grinning broadly.

His mood had lightened considerably since the previous night and whilst several doubts still remained, he pushed them to the back of his mind and contented himself with the easy conversation, relieved to see that she was in a somewhat affable mood today.

“Well, you're certainly not wrong on that one, Dean!”said Evie, shoulders rumbling with a small laugh.

“Mine is a nation of saints and scholars along with quite a fair few sinners. Trust me, guys, if y'all ever find yourselves in my neck of the woods, do yourselves a major favor and spend some time on the West Coast. We call it the Wild Atlantic Way and when the weather's _just_ right and the sun's splittin' the stones?”

She pinched her fingers together, a satisfied expression on her face.

“ _Fucking gorgeous_.” Dropping her hand to drum on the top of the front seat, it danced daringly close to Sam's arm as she regarded him thoughtfully.

“I don't really know if it'll even work considering I may have very well ripped a hole in the space-time continuam by being here but if I can somehow try and get into my DropBox account, I'll be happy to show you gentlemen some pictures. I'm far from a professional but like a lot of young woman, I had a bit of a photography phase a while back.”

Castiel nodded, smiling serenely.

“I'd enjoy that.”

Evie made an approving noise and turned her face towards the window, watching as the scenery rushed past at a steady pace. Pushing the hair from her eyes, all the talk of home caused a deep sensation of longing in her gut that became too big to ignore as the minutes ticked by.

A pang of guilt stabbed at her and she swallowed down a lump in her throat as her thoughts took a turn for the grim. She wondered darkly what her grandmother was up to, if they had found Evie's body yet if at all, if they had told Maggie Keogh of her granddaughter's untimely death.

Evie scrunched her eyes shut, desperate to push the memories deep down inside but it was no use.

The shame continued to grow and she sunk down in the seat, folding her arms around herself.

She hadn't been thinking clearly when she'd absconded from the hospital that night, her traumatised mind reeling from the disturbing mental imagary that tortured her each night for as long as she cared to remember, the cocktail of strong medication the doctors had pumped into her for weeks doing little to blunt their intensity.

Judgement clouded by a fog of acute psychosis, Evie grimaced as she recalled how, after stealing an X-Acto knife from the Arts & Crafts room, she'd attacked her arms with a fury, hellbent on ending her torturous existence before an orderly rugby-tackled her to the floor and wrestling the blade from her grip while she screamed blue murder.

A week in isolation followed, the hysteria only serving to grow like a cancer of the mind as the time ticked by at an agonizingly slow pace. It was only when she was taken out to the hospital grounds for a brief hour in the hazy evening sunshine that she managed to escape, slipping past the staff and fleeing the confines as she ran long into the night, not stopping until she reached the rocky summit of the cliff, teetering on the edge as she stared down into the crashing, turbulent waves below.

Two steps was all it took and she didn't even hesitate to jump but now, slumped in the backseat of the Impala as it sped down the highway towards Milwakee, the sound of Dean singing along to a Queen song on the radio ringing in her ears, the reality of all that had happened became a heavy burden and Evie choked back a sob, pushing her fingers into her eyes to stem the steady flow of tears that threatened to burst forth like a breech in a dam.

Castiel immediately noticed the change in her demeanor and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, snapping her back to the here and now with a start.

“Evie.” His voice was low, worried; “Are you alright?”

Breathing hard as the threat of a panic attack loomed, Evie inhaled sharply and clenched her jaw into a hard line, forcing an anguished smile that died at her eyes. She scrubbed at her face and let the breath out in a shaky sigh along with a meek, mirthless chuckle as she avoided his steely blue gaze.

“S-Sorry.” She ekked out, feeling her throat constrict as inner turmoil threatened to consume her; “All this talk of home...I miss it.”

Sensing that there was more to her sudden change in mood than mere homesickness, Sam leaned over the passenger seat and peered into her eyes, searching for answers to the silent questions he knew better than to ask. She hiccoughed and bit her lip, not looking at him as she clearly struggled to keep her emotions in check.

“Everlyn.” Sam's voice was soft and soothing as he stretched out his arm and grasped her shoulder with a firm, reassuring grip. “I promise you, we'll do all we can to get you back home. There has to be _something_... a-a spell or a ritual of some kind to bring you back to your world.”

Evie raised her head a fraction of an inch and Sam could see her green eyes watering under her long lashes.

“We'll hit the books when we get back to the bunker and figure something out, okay? Don't cry...it's going to be okay.” His thumb traced circles on her shoulder, trying to ellict some small sense of comfort as he watched her shudder with ill-suppressed sobs.

“T-Thanks, Sammy.” She whispered, sniffling as she covered his hand with her own and closed her eyes tightly, savouring the kind, concerned touch.

 _He really is too sweet for words..._ she thought to herself.

 

Watching the scene unfold in the rear view mirror, Dean's eyes lingered on the stricken young woman in the back seat, his brows furrowing at her obvious distress. He wanted to say something, to delve into her turbulent thoughts and slay whatever demons lying within that caused her so much torment.

He knew from his own experiences with keeping his emotions hidden that she was hiding more than just a pining for home. Though she soon rearranged her face to mask her inner pain, Evie couldn't fool him. There was trauma in her eyes, a haunted expression he knew all too well and his stomach lurched as a whole host of grim scenerios played in his head as he wondered about the source of her distress.

In a bid to distract her, he let the Impala idle in the light traffic and took the opportunity to pop open the glove box, rummaging around amongst the assorted clutter for a specific tape cassette. He grinned when his fingers found it, pulling it free from a prison of discarded candy wrappers before he held it aloft, meeting Evie's eyes in the mirror.

“You know what I do when I'm feelin' like shit?” He said casually, keeping his voice light as he slid the tape into the player on the dashboard; “ _I get the Led out._ ”

“Dean..?” she queried, confusion flashing across her face.

A familiar song started to play and Dean cranked up the volume until the car practically shook with the blistering opening riff to _The Immigrant Song_. He drummed his hands on the steering wheel, encouraging her to let loose with a reassuring grin.

“Get it all out, Evie. C'mon, scream with me! _Aaaaa-aaaaaaaaaah!_ ”

Shaking her head, Evie couldn't help but emit a low chuckle, a hand scraping through her scalp.

“You're insane, Dean...!”

“You're only figuring that out _now_?” Sam drawled, rolling his eyes as his brother air-drummed to the pounding beat of Led Zepplin, Robert Plant's throaty shrieks reverberating through the car, drowning out Dean's own.

Evie licked her bottom lip, thumbing it for a moment's consideration before she decided to just go with it.

Sucking in a lungful of air, she felt her diaphram contract as she let a shrill, shuddering scream rise up from the pit of her stomach, a feral, animalistic noise that caused all three male occupants of the Impala to stare at her open-mouthed, momentarily stunned into silence at hearing such a deafening sound belch forth from such a tiny woman.

Throwing her head back as the song continued, Evie sang along effortlessly as the tension in her body eased and the hot knot of angst in her gut gave way to a desperate need to just cut loose and lose herself in the music.

“ _We come from the land of the ice and snow, from the midnight sun, where the hot springs flow..._ _  
t_ _he hammer of the gods...!”_ Her voice was rich and melodic and as she closed her eyes, the Winchester boys relaxed enough to follow her lead, joining her in singing along as the traffic eased off and Dean once more steered them towards the city.

By the time they got to Milwakee, all the tension had evaporated, leaving behind a hearty, fun-filled atomosphere, the easy laughter returning to the car as it rolled into the car park of a large strip-mall dominated by a Walmart, Sam and Dean dueting on the final chorus of Warrent's _Cherry Pie_ as Dean's mixtape wound down to the last song.

As the music faded into silence and the tape cassette stopped spinning in the deck, Dean parked the car in a space close to the entrance and leaned back in the driver's seat, chest rumbling with breezy laughter.

“Heh, that was fun!” He said brightly, glancing behind him at Evie and Castiel.

“I'll say! I haven't rocked out in a car full of mates in years! Cheers, Dean. I _really_ needed that.” Evie smiled sincerely and reached out to ruffle his hair playfully, her mood a thousand times better than before.

“No problem, Sweetheart.” His gaze caught Castiel, who had been largely quiet throughout the entire duration of the mixtape, occassionally giving the others bemused smiles from the backseat as he watched them fill the air with exuberant song and head-bang in time to the music.

“Next time, I'll get a song out of you yet, Cas!”

“I..I don't know the words, Dean. I'd only embarass myself.”

“I dunno, Cas. I'm sure you have a lovely singing voice, what with being an angel an' all. Besides, lyrics for most songs can be easily found on the Internet so you have no excuses!”Evie said, nudging the angel lightly in the ribs.

“I'll take your word for it, Evie.” Castiel sounded unconvinced.

Clapping his hands together, Sam glanced out the windscreen at the array of shop fronts before him.

“Where to first?”

“Well, I'm absolutely _starving_ so let's grab some food before I start chewin' on Castiel's wings.” Dean quipped, opening the door and getting out of the car.

Evie snorted with amusement. “Damn, I'd pay good money to see that!”

Castiel frowned, shaking his finger at them both. “You leave my wings out of this.”

 

\-------

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chicken wing contests, a kiss between Dean and Castiel of +20 Awkwardness and some fun interactions in a Walmart.  
> Enjoy!

**CHAPTER THREE**

Evie Keogh chuckled softly and followed the three men out of the Impala, heading in the direction of a small restaurant to left of the Walmart, her stomach suddenly making its' presence known as the smell of fried bacon wafted down the street and into her nose, causing her mouth to water.

Evie couldn't remember the last time she had a decent meal, the memory of last night's frozen pizza making her grimace. Padding through the double glass doors, flip-flops slapping against the checker board floor, she joined the men in a large booth by the window overlooking the street and reached to pull a menu out of it's place sandwiched between the condiments and the napkin holder on the table.

“What're you in the mood for?” Dean asked, watching her eyes scan over the dizzying array of options printed on the laminated pages with a bemused expression.

“Jaysus, I've never seen so many burger varieties on one menu in my life!” Evie exclaimed, turning over the menu and shaking her head. Her eyebrows twitched and she whistled loudly.

“Ohh, _fuck yeah_!” She pointed to an entry listed under Poultry Dishes, bouncing excitedly in her seat and Dean frowned.

“ _Wings of Death_? You sure you can handle that? It's got five chilli pepper symbols next to it-”

Evie cast him a wicked smirk. “You underestimate my power!”

Dean rolled his eyes, taking the menu from her and scanning it to decide his own meal option.

“Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you.”

Sam glanced over Dean's shoulder and sniffed.

“I think I'll have the Cobb salad.”

“Sure you will, you rabbit.”Dean drawled, smacking him in the head with the menu. Evie chuckled at the annoyed grunt Sam ellicited and leaned back with her arms crossed behind her head, stretching her legs as far as they would go beneath the table.

“You don't win friends with salad, Sammy.”

The younger of the two hunters gave her a half-hearted scowl. “Hey, I like to take care of myself! Quit raggin'!”

“Ahh, I'm just messin', Sam. I don't care if you're a vegetablist. You do you.”said Evie. She turned to look at Castiel, who was sat beside her reading the ingredients list on the back of the jar of French's mustard, his gaze focused and intense.

“You want a milkshake, Cas?”

He looked up and nodded once. “Vanilla, please.”

Failing to stifle a giggle, she slapped his arm playfully and winked. “Aren't you worried about bringin' all the boys to the yard?”

The angel's brows creased with bewilderment. “Ahh, yes. That was something of a misunderstanding...”

“You take things _way_ too seriously, Cas.” Sam drawled, drumming his fingers on the table as he watched out for a waitress to come by. He didn't have to wait long, a pretty buxon blonde in a red uniform with a white apron around her neck stopping by the table with a hot pot of coffee in her hand and a cheesy grin on her face.

“Well, howdy!” the waitress exclaimed in a sugary Southern drawl; “Welcome to Lily's! What can I get you good folks today?” Resting the coffee pot on the table, she pulled a pen from behind her ear, fishing a notepad from the pocket of her apron as she stood to take their orders.

“Cobb salad for me, thanks. Extra croutons, dressing on the side.” said Sam, idly scratching the stubble on his chin. The waitress nodded and scribbled on her pad, turning her attention to Dean. She licked her lips, shamelessly drinking in the sight of him and Evie had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing.

“And you, darlin'? What can I get for you?”

Dean considered her with interest, scanning her up and down with a flirtatious grin tugging at his lips. “I'll have the Godfather burger, a side of cheesy bacon fries and your phone number!”

At that, Evie snorted into her hand. “Oh, J _esus_...! Smooth, Dean. Very smooth!”

He gave her a haughty stare. “You shut your cakehole!” Turning back to the waitress, he turned on the charm and leaned towards her, painfully obvious as he took to checking her out. The blonde let out a high pitched giggle and pushed an errant corkscrew curl behind her ear.

“What'cha doin' later, sweetheart?” he purred, running his tongue over his lips.

The waitress continued to giggle and leaned down into his personal space, squeezing his bicep.

“ _You_ if you play your cards right, sugar!”

A full on guffaw escaped Evie's lips and Dean moved to kick her under the table, causing her to let out a yelp. Shaking his head over the ridiculousness of the situation, Sam made a show of clearing his throat loudly, pulling the waitress from her lustful stupor.

Flustered at being caught out flirting with a customer, she coughed awkwardly and smoothed down the creases in her apron before fixing her face in a grin. “Sorry, sorry!” Turning to address Castiel, she inclined her pen towards him.

“What would you like, handsome?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes at the compliment but his voice was otherwise impassive.

“A vanilla milkshake, please. That's all.”

The waitress nodded, blonde curls bouncing atop her head before she turned at last to Evie, who was silently cursing Dean with her leg pulled up on the seat, rubbing her ankle and giving him a death glare. Sensing a pair of eyes on her, Evie grunted and folded her arms over her chest, fixing the waitress with a steely, intense gaze.

“I'll have a peanut butter shake, sweet potato fries with garlic dip...”She dipped her voice an octave and let her eyes bore into the woman before her as the words rolled off her tongue; “...And the _Wings of Death._ ”

The waitress paled and straightened in a rigid line, her brown eyes widening to saucers. She gave Evie a searching look, arching a heavily penciled in eyebrow.

“Uhh, honey, you sure about that? It's _incredibly_ spicy. You'll need to sign a waiver-”

Evie continued to stare her down, unblinking in her resolve as she mustered up her best Ron Swanson voice. “I know what I'm about, ma'am.”

The waitress balked and shook her head, reluctantly taking the order down on her notepad, a low whistle escaping her lips. “It's your funeral.”

Pulling a scroll of paper from her apron, the blonde woman unrolled it and smoothed it out on the table in front of Evie, handing her the pen.

“This waiver states that we accept no responsiblity if you suffer a heart attack, respitory distress or other health problems after eating these chicken wings. If you manage to finish five of them without passing out, you get a t-shirt and your photo up on the Wall of Fame.”

The waitress swept her hand towards the far wall above the bar where just two framed pictures both of sweaty, morbidly obese red-faced men in trucker hats stood out amongst the white paint, their smiles pained from the intense heat of the food they'd just consumed.

An arrogant smirk flashed across Evie's face and she scratched down her signature on the crisp white paper, amused at the ominous skull-and-crossbones symbol at the top of the page.

“Bring it on.”

 

Peering at the waiver, Castiel stiffened and regarded Evie with concern in his blue eyes.

“Evie, are you sure about this? I don't like the look of this warning...”He said, bringing the page to his face and scrutinizing it closely. As he read, he paled and his eyes widened in alarm.

“This says here these wings may cause _rectal bleeding_! Evie, why in the world would you willingly eat something like this?!”

Dean gauped at the angel's words and yanked the waiver from his hand, giving it a once over and letting out a surprised wheeze. “Jesus, he's not wrong. Sammy, look!” He jabbed his finger at the lengthy list of side effects, each one just as unpleasent as the next.

Sam's hazel eyes met Evie's and he sighed, throwing his hands up in defeat.

“You're a freakin' lunatic to even _consider_ this, Evie. But like she said, it's you're funeral...”

The waitress took the waiver from him and tucked it back into her apron, shaking her head disapprovingly. “I'll be back shortly with your orders.” She took up the coffee pot and headed towards the kitchen. As she walked away, Evie could just make out her uttering something to the effects of “ _Bitches be crazy..._ ” under her breath.

Settling back in her seat, Evie regarded the two Winchesters before her with a smile, grateful to be in their company. Dean caught her gaze and shuffled forward, arms folded on the table as he pointed at her with a stern expression.

“If you wind up cryin' on the toilet all night after this, don't you _dare_ come runnin' to me.” He said gruffly, his eyes narrowing as she flashed him a look of feigned innocence.

“You can relax, Deano. I have a cast-iron stomach. They don't call me _The Belly_ for nothin', y'know.”

“Whose _they_ , Evie?” Sam enquired, a deep crease appearing between his brows.

The young woman laughed and leaned against Castiel, casually resting her head on his shoulder.

“A handful of shocked restaraunt owners in Galway's Latin Quarter and my cousin Barry, mostly. I can't help it, guys. I _fucking love_ insanely spicy food. Warms this swingin' block of ice I call my heart.”

Sam cocked his head to the side, curiosity on his face.

“Galway has a _Latin Quarter_?”

Evie smiled and briefly glanced outside the window, watching the world go by.

“Yeah...pretty sweet spot to kick back and unwind. Before Barry shipped off to Boston, him and I spent an entire year livin' out the back of his van getting wasted, enterin' extreme eating contests and playing the odd gig in dive bars to make money. Not gonna lie, it was one of the happier times in my life...”

“That sounds nice.” Castiel said, following her gaze to where it momentarily lingered on the window of a quirky looking thrift store across the street. “Anything that brings you joy is always a good thing to think about.”

“Yeah...yeah, it is, Cas...”Evie murmured, her thoughts drifting once more to home, recalling the hazy, booze-soaked days of her youth spent in the company of her lunatic cousin, one of the handful of times in her life when things didn't seem so bleak and dark. Clearing her throat to stop a pang of homesickness from upsetting her, she sat up and plastered on a wide grin, rubbing her hands together as she spotted the blonde waitress from earlier approach the table with a huge tray of food and drinks balanced expertly in her hands.

“Cobb salad...” the blonde woman reeled off the orders as she placed them in front of their respective owners; “Godfather burger, cheesy bacon fries, vanilla shake, peanut butter shake, sweet potato fries...” she paused as her hand lingered over the last remaining dish on the tray, a black plate upon which sat eight large boneless chicken wings drenched in lurid red sauce that gave off such an intense wave of spiciness that the air practically sizzled.

“You _sure_ you wanna do this, honey? You can back out right now and I won't charge you for it-”the waitress said as she gauged Evie's reaction. The Irish woman scowled up at her.

“ _Gimme the damn chicken, woman!_ ”

Shaking her head, the waitress conceeded defeat and reluctantly set the plate down in front of her.

Clearing her throat, she loosened the collar of her shirt and sighed.

“I'll be watchin' from over the bar to see if you can get five of those suckers down ya but I sincerely doubt it. Still, you're welcome to try. If y'all need anything else, just holler.” the blonde woman took the tray back up and turned to head towards the bar but at the last moment, she turned and bent down towards Dean, smiling as she handed him a scrap of note paper with a cell number scribbled on it in black ink. Turns out, her name was Stacy.

“I get off at six, sugar. Call me!”

Dean smirked, pocketing the note in the front of his flannel and winking.

“Oh, I intend to!”

Stacy the waitress gave a shrill giggle and sauntered away, her hips swaying in an exaggerated fashion as she tended to the customers sitting at the bar. Dean's gaze lingered on her retreating backside and he chuckled to himself, folding his arms behind his head as he settled back against the booth, delighted at the prospect of possibly getting laid later that evening.

“Proud of yourself, are you?” Evie drawled, arching an eyebrow at the blantant flirting she'd just witnessed as she sipped her milkshake through a chunky red straw.

“Damn straight! This dry spell's gone on for _too_ long!” Dean grabbed a forkful of fries and stuffed his mouth, a string of melted cheese dangling from his lips as he grinned.

Evie scoffed and shook her head, giving a quick glance at Castiel, watching as he plucked the cherry from the top of the whipped cream on his milkshake and chewed on it slowly as he paid her no mind.

A sudden plan began to form in her head as she watched him sip his beverage and it was plain to see on her face that she was smirking because Sam crinkled his brows at her, fork full of salad halfway to his mouth.

“What _are_ you smirking about?” he queried.

“Ohh, just something I had in mind for Dean. Call it a bet or dare or whatever.” Evie said breezily, the evil expression on her face unwaivering.

Looking up from taking a massive, sloppy bite of the gigantic, Gorgonzola filled burger in his hands, Dean swallowed down the tasty mouthful and rubbed the mayo from his lips, frowning at the young woman seated across the table.

“Why do I get the feeling I should be worried?”

“Heh, it's nothing _too_ crazy, Dean...well, depends on how comfortable you are with public displays of affection between two grown ass men-”

“Spit it out, woman. What are you plannin'?” Dean snapped, moving to take another chunk out of his burger.

Taking up a chicken wing from her plate, she held it towards her and inhaled the pungent stench of fiery hot sauce, the immense heat causing a pleasurable sting in her nostrils. Hoovering it mere millimetres from her mouth, her eyes burned into Dean's and her teeth caught her bottom lip.

If Dean didn't know any better, he could've sworn from the postively wanton look on her face that she was about to fling herself across the table and jump his bones right there in the restaraunt.

He tensed in his seat, the remnants of his burger dropping onto his plate as he braced himself for her next move. Instead of straight up molesting him, she let out a breathy chuckle and placed the chicken wing back on the plate.

“Okay, Winchester...”she said purposefully, straightening up in her seat and pushing her chest out in a bid to appear confident; “If I can eat all eight of these chicken wings without once taking a sip of my milkshake, you have to do one thing for me without question or protest.”

“Oh?” Dean relaxed slightly, relief washing over him momentarily; “What you got in mind?”

A shit-eating grin stretched the corners of her mouth and she angled her head in Castiel's direction but her eyes never left his. “If I do it, you have to kiss Castiel. On the _mouth_.”

Sam nearly choked on a crouton and his eyes widened, glancing incredulously between his brother and Evie as he coughed and spluttered.

 

“ _Whu-what?!_ ”

 

Castiel stared at her, mildly startled by this sudden turn of events. “Yes, what?”

“ _Fuck off, Evie!_ ”Dean snapped, scowling at her and folding his arms petulantly; “You think I'm gonna do somethin' like that in front of that hot waitress and blow my chances sky high?! Girl, you got another thing comin'!”

“Oh, c'mon, Deano!” Evie protested, chewing on a sweet potato fry and frowning; “What's a little harmless kiss between friends? I mean, I'd prefer if you used a lil' tongue but I'm not gonna complain...”

“You've lost your goddamn mind, Evie. I'm not doing it.”

“ _Please_?” she whined, sticking out her bottom lip and giving him her best puppy-dog eyes; “If you do it just this once, I'll pay for this entire meal and bake you any kind of pie you want once we get back to the bunker.”

Dean gave her a hard glare, his deep green eyes boring into hers as his jaw flexed with annoyance.

“Don't try and sway me with offers of pie, Evie. _It's not gonna happen!”_

“You sure? I've won a couple of awards with my peach pie. S'my specialty, Dean. All home-made, right from scratch, none of this weird fixation on pre-maid pie crust you Americans seem to be so obsessed with.”Evie said, trying hard to convince him; “I'm talkin' a rich, buttery shortcrust brushed with an egg to make it all golden and yummy, stuffed fully of lovely, fresh peaches peeled, stoned and sliced all by hand with a little sprinkle of cinnamon and a dusting of sugar on top... doesn't that sound _nice_?”

Dean's Adam's Apple quivered and he couldn't stop his mouth from watering as he took in every word she said. Goddamnit, that sounded _fucking_ delicious and despite having practically inhaled a hefty deluxe burger and nearly half a side of fries, his stomach gave an almighty rumble at the thought of having a fresh, lovingly baked home-made peach pie all to himself.

He swallowed hard and stole a glance at Castiel, who was watching with an utterly befuddled expression as the whole scene unfolded. Seeing the cogs work behind Dean's eyes, the angel sighed.

“You're not seriously considering this, are you?” he said in a wary tone, sipping on his milkshake.

Dean scraped his hand down his face and gave an irritated grunt. Leaning forward until his nose practically touched Evie's, he wagged a finger.

“Okay, fuck it. _One kiss_. Five seconds. No tongues.” he gritted out, kicking himself for cracking so easily. The woman in front of him squealed and kissed the tip of his nose, grinning broadly.

“ _Fantastic_!”

“Wait, I didn't agree to this-!” Castiel began to protest but Evie silenced him with a finger to his lips.

“Bup-bup-bup! Don't complain, Angel Cakes! I've been waiting nearly six seasons for this! Don't run it for me, man!”

Sam failed to stifle a disbelieving laugh. “What the hell is happening?”

“History in the makin', Sammy!” Evie said joyously, reaching to once again muss up Dean's hair before he settled back in his seat and pouted like a spoilt child.

“Shut up and eat your goddamn chicken wings, dickbag...!” he grumbled.

Chest rumbling with a hearty laugh, Evie nodded and set to work, taking a wing between her thumbs and forefingers and raising it to her lips, her eyes darting between those of the men in her company for a moment, studying their reactions.

Castiel's face was a picture of worry, deep creases lining his forehead, the expression parroted by Sam who sat with one arm resting on the back of the boot, regarding her with an exasperated look while Dean just glared expectantly and silently urged her to hurry up.

“Here goes..” Evie said before opening her mouth and taking a hefty bite.

She could feel the tension in the air as the men watched her chew on the chicken, nervously anticipating how she would handle the rush of capusin on her tongue. She paused for a second, focusing on the taste of the sauce and texture of the meat, soft and pliable in her mouth. The heat kicked in almost instantly and it packed a hefty punch but nothing she couldn't handle.

Evie made light work of the first wing, finishing it completely and smacking her lips together as she reached for a second one, amused by Sam gauping at her as she finished it in a flash with hardly a grimace. One by one, the chicken wings disappeared down her throat, the spices warm and pleasent in her stomach until, with one piece of chicken remaining, she paused to stretch her thin arms over her head.

“ _Holy shit...!_ ” Sam and Dean uttered in unison, molified at the nearly empty plate in front of her as they struggled to comprehend how she could so easily eat a meal supposedly so hardcore she had to sign a waiver, let alone get through the process without so much as a hint of colour flooding her face.

“Almost there, guys. We're on the home stretch!” Evie quipped, dangling the last of the chicken wings in front of her before it soon joined the rest in the depths of her iron-clad stomach. Licking the last of the sauce from her lips and daubing her chin with a napkin, she pushed the empty plate away and nestled back in the boot, a smug grin on her face as she relished the stunned silence that befell them.

After several incredulous minutes of staring at her waiting for any sign of a delayed reaction to the hot concoction she'd just eaten, Dean was the first to speak, his finger shaking slightly as he pointed it at Evie.

“You... you are _not_ human.”

Evie chuckled and curled her finger around an errant lock of brown hair that fell loose from the messy bun atop her head. “I can assure you I am, Dean. Those wings were _fuckin' tasty._ Not all that hot, though. Not really.”

Sam pulled her plate towards him and smeared some of the leftover hot sauce onto his finger, frowning before sucking it clean. Barely five seconds passed and he gasped, grabbing Castiel's half-empty vanilla milkshake and gulping it down in a desperate bid to put out the hellfire that threatened to burn a hole through his tongue.

“Hey!” Castiel protested. He had been enjoying that milkshake, one of the few Earthly beverages that he found pleasing to the taste.

Coughing roughly, his eyes watering as the horrendous sensations in his mouth slowly washed away with the icy milkshake, Sam blanched and wiped his mouth with a napkin, staring at Evie with a mixture of shock, awe and a touch of fear.

“How..how the _ever-loving fuck_ did you manage to get all eight of them down you without even _flinching_?! That sauce came from Hell itself! Jesus Christ!”

“Quit exaggeratin', Sam! It wasn't that bad!” said Evie, bemused by his reaction.

He gave her a haughty glare and shook his head. Glancing between Dean and Castiel, her face spread into a self-satisfied smirk and she popped her tongue loudly.

“Bet's a bet, Deano. Pay up! Now _kiiiisss_!”She threw one arm around Castiel's neck and pulled him towards the table, startling the poor angel with a surprising amount of physical strenght for such a petite woman whilst her other arm reached out and moved to yank Dean forward by a fistful of his flannel.

“You _motherfucker._..!” Dean hissed through his teeth, eyes darting towards the bar. Stacy the Waitress had her back to them as she made casual chit-chat with an elderly couple at a nearby table whilst filling up their coffee cups and the older Winchester sibling bit back a string of more colourful cursewords.

Never one to back down from a hairy situation, he swallowed his pride and steeled his nerves, not waiting for a reaction from Castiel before he reached out and placed both hands on the angel's cheeks, holding his head firmly as he prepared to lay one on him.

Just as Dean was about to launch into the most awkward kiss of his life, Evie squealed.

“Wait, wait, wait! Sammy, get your phone out! This needs to be recorded for the ages!”

Dean instantly try to shrink back into his seat but her grip on his shirt was almost supernaturally strong and he squirmed to free himself.

“Don't you fucking _dare_ take a picture of this!”Dean growled angrily, shooting daggers at Sam who was trying his absolute damndest not to dissolve into a fit of hysterics at the sight before him, highly amused at just how crazy this day was shaping up to be.

“This is going on my Instagram!”Sam quipped between peels of hearty laughter, fishing his phone from his pocket and priming the camera for what could possibly be the greatest piece of blackmail material in the world.

Castiel gave a resignated sigh and rolled his eyes before casting Dean an apologetic look.

“Let's just get this over with before that waitress turns around.” he mumbled sheepishly.

 

Dean barked out a curse, scrunched his eyes shut and grimaced before shooting forward and pressing his lips to Castiel's in a chaste, closed-mouthed cinch. He was acutely aware of Evie struggling to surpress her giggles as she counted them down from five and he cringed hard. He was going to straight up _murder_ that fucking leprechaun for this.

Castiel's mouth opened a tiny fraction and he unconsciously deepened the kiss ever-so-slightly, his eyes fluttering shut, causing Dean to jump as he felt the angel's cool breath against him. He found himself startled by just how incredibly soft Castiel's lips felt against his, tasting traces of vanilla and a hint of minty toothpaste.

Dean was thoroughly disturbed. Why the hell did it feel so good to be kissing _Castiel?!_

Evie's countdown was agonizingly slow and the kiss seemed to drag on forever. Dean wrestled with his thoughts. This was wrong on so many different levels and he desperately wanted to break free yet, unable to ignore the thought, it also simultanious felt rather nice considering he was actually kissing a _man_.

After what felt like an eternity, Evie's countdown ended and she cackled as Dean shot backwards into the booth like he'd just been scalded, his eyes wide and his expression one of complete and utter horror.

Castiel remained in his spot, half his body practically in Evie's lap and his eyes were still closed over, his face serene and calm, which only spooked Dean even further. He could've sworn the rat bastard had _enjoyed_ their cinch!

Sam broke the brief interlude of uneasy silence by clearing his throat loudly, smiling broadly down at the incriminating picture on his phone, preserving the moment for the ages. His fingers flying quickly over the screen, he managed to save the photo to his own private storage server before Dean reached out and grabbed the phone from his hands with such force that the device practically gave him a friction burn as it scraped against his skin.

Sam scrambled for it, scared that Dean would smash it to bits under his boot but instead watched as he angrily deleted the picture from the gallery before throwing it at Evie and narrowly missing belting her on the nose. She yelped and flung her hands up to her face, Castiel snatching the phone from mid-air and returning it to its' grateful owner.

“Calm down, Dean.” the angel urged, unimpressed by the act of violence.

“ _I hate you so much_.” Dean snarled, his voice dangerously low. If looks could kill, Evie would be dead twice over.

She tried not to show any fear but seeing him so worked up was worrying. Having watched the show for quite some time, she was used to seeing him get angry but giving that he was sitting before her, all flesh and blood and enraged glares as the air between became uncomfortably hot, she swallowed a lump in her throat and told herself not to goad his temper any further for the rest of the day.

Mercifully, Stacy The Waitress returned to the table, her presence quickly diffusing the tension between Dean and Evie as she moved to clear their plates away, blissfully ignorant of the unholy shitstorm she had narrowly adverted.

Moving to take up Evie's plate, Stacy paused and stared at it slackjawed, mouth agape.

“You... you ate them _all_?!”

“Mmmhmm.” Evie regarded her cooly; “Told you I could handle it.”

“I-uh-wow. Okay. Holy shit, I'll go grab the camera and a shirt!” Stacy said dumbly, blinking at the young woman who had just become the first person in the restaurant's five year history to ever finish an entire plate of the hottest chicken wings in Milwakee.

“W-What shirt size do you take, honey?”

Evie glanced down at the faded Led Zepplin t-shirt swamping her tiny frame and she shrugged.

“Uhh, extra-small, I guess. What's a size 8 in American terms?”

Stacy shook her head and headed back to the bar, muttering an audible “ _Goddamn_!” under her breath before quickly returning with a bundle of red fabric wrapped in clingfilm in one hand, an expensive looking Nikon with a chunky lens in the other. Handing Evie the t-shirt, she steadied herself, still amazed at how such a mousy little slip of a woman could've accompish a task that so many people before her had failed at so miserably.

“Uhh, say cheese, I guess..” the waitress murmured, raising the camera to her face and priming it, peering at the viewfinder as the lens automaticly focused the shot.

Evie smiled triumphantly and moved to strike a pose, throwing her hands up into duel Devil horns, her face twisting comically into an intimidating expression as she stared down the camera. Sam and Castiel forced awkward smiles and leaned into the shot but Dean continued to brood as a small bulb popped out of the top of the camera and flashed loud and bright, momentarily blinding them all with a blast of white light.

“Got it! That's a good picture.” Stacy said, turning the camera to show them the results, a task that was utterly fruitless considering they were all blinking owl-like against the bright spots dancing before their eyes. Blissfully unware of that fact, the waitress sat the camera down on the table for a moment and studied Evie's face with interest.

“Y'know, we've never done this in all the years we've been open but considering that you're literally the first ever person to put away an entire plate of those suckers, you deserve to have this for your troubles.” She reached into the pocket of her apron and fished out a small red envelope, handing it to a confused, slightly blinded Evie who squinted at it for a minute.

“Congradulations.Your entire meal's on the house!” Stacy said brightly, bowing reverently to the new addition to the Wall of Fame before taking up her camera and bidding a cheery goodbye with a sly wink in Dean's direction, disappearing into the kitchen at the back.

As her vision adjusted to it's normal state, Evie slid a nail under the seal of the envelope and carefully pried it open, pulling out a stiff grey Walmart gift card, a small note wrapped around it telling her it was worth $200.

“ _Deadly_!” she grinned, holding it up for the men to see. “The food shoppin's on me, lads!”

“Impressive.” Sam replied, rubbing his jaw and glancing out the window at the Walmart nearby, his mind running through a list of items he planned on purchasing to restock the kitchen, totting up the total with a quick series of mathmatics.

 

Gathering themselves, the gang left the booth and stepped out of the restaraunt into the balmy sunshine, unusually hot for the middle of March as the air shimmered from the heat, steam rising from the bonnets of the cars they passed as they made their way towards the towering department store.

Pushing a quarter into the slot of a large shopping cart, Sam forged ahead into the building and headed straight for the fresh produce, closely followed by Castiel.

Evie lingered near the entrance, frowning at Dean's tense form a few steps ahead of her. He was still irate from the humilation of having to kiss Castiel in public and his mind was swimming with all manner of troubled, confused thoughts on the matter, so much so that his muted demeanor caused Evie to pout and smack him upside the head.

He snapped out of his brooding with a jolt, the hit not doing much damage but it was enough to bring his attention back to the present. He scowled down at her with his jaw set in a hard line, his jugular vein bulging slightly from the tension in his neck.

“You listen to me good and proper, y'hear?” He gritted through his teeth, his anger still very much at the surface as his evergreen eyes bore into hers; “ _Don't make me repeat myself._ Any other notions of trying to start something between me an' Cas, you can forget about 'em from here on out. I don't know what kind of _sick, twisted_ ideas you got rattlin' around in that fucked up head of yours but it ends _now_. Castiel and I are and will only ever be strictly good friends. If you think for one _second_ I'm gonna let you waltz into my life and attempt to make me blur those lines with him, Missy, you got another thing comin'.”

Evie considered him carefully, lingering over her next words. She knew she had betrayed his trust putting him in that awkward position back in the restaurant and her heart lurched uncomfortably beneath her shirt.

It had started out as a dumb joke for her own selfish amusement, a little taste of the Destiel pairing she so shamelessly rooted for as a loyal viewer but as she felt Dean's glare burn into her, she knew the joke had gone too far.

“I'm sorry, Dean.” She said remorsefully, staring down at her toes poking out of her flip-flops; “I was only kidding around. There was no malice in it.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn't all that funny to me, Evie.” Dean's voice was still tense but it was noticably calmer as he accepted her apology and rubbed a hand through his short auburn hair.

“Don't push me like that again, alright?”

“I'll try, Dean but full disclosure, I _do_ like to push people's buttons for shits and giggles.” Her smile returned and she pulled out one of her favorite Crowley lines; “I torture all my friends. It's how I show _love_.”

The reference wasn't lost on Dean and he scowled at her but the rage behind his eyes died down to a ripple of mild annoyance and he sighed, spinning her around on her heels and poking her hard in the middle of her back, earning a yelp as he urged her forward down the produce aisle.

Meeting Sam as he lingered around a display of fruit, he smiled at her as he was bagging up some grapes and weighing them in the little scales dangling from a thin metal pole nearby.

Evie felt herself relax, the dull throb in her back from where Dean had poked her fading as she took to picking up a honeydew, feeling it weigh heavily in her hands and she grinned at the younger hunter.

“Hey, Sammy! Y'know what the Elvish word for ' _friend_ ' is?”

He stared at her, bemused.

“ _Melon_!” She finished with a laugh at the dumb joke, tossing the honeydew in the air and catching it deftly before returning it to the pile in front of her. Her eyes scanned the rest of the fruit and vegetables on display in the aisle and she found herself drawn to the pile of bananas next to a large fridge full of bags of frozen smoothie mixes.

Another thought of home entered her head as she plucked a bunch of green, semi-ripe fruit from the pile, leaning against the fridge and hanging her head slightly.

Throwing his bag of grapes into the cart, Sam studied her face, seeing a trace of sadness unfold.

“What are you thinkin' about?” He asked gently, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

Her mouth twitched into a shy smile as she raised her head an inch. It thrilled her at how openly tactile he could be, no hesitation over gracing her with kind, gently reassuring touches that she quietly hoped would slowly develop into something more as their time together stretched on.

Even so, she couldn't help but dwell on the thoughts of her loved ones back in her home world and whilst she had strong doubts about whether or not the boys could succeed in finding a way back to her rightful place in the universe, though she relished her time in the Supernatural world, she knew that ultimately she had to go back.

“Evie?” Sam's calm voice snapped her back to reality and she cleared her throat, trying to appear nonchalant.

“Sorry... I was just thinking about my cousin, actually.” she said, weighing the bananas in her hand, the humor returning to her face as she straightened up.

“He's got a major, all-consuming obsession with bananas and anything yellow, the big dork. He also has a huge love of anything Minion related which I can't even _begin_ to comprehend...!”She placed the bunch into the cart and pushed off the fridge, following Sam as they walked a steady pace through the aisle, every so often stopping to add more produce to the cart until they got to the end with a variety of items.

“Tell me about him. You sound like you're pretty fond of him.” Sam said, intrigued, as they pushed on into the aisle stocked full of a dizzying array of cereal and breakfast options, pausing to chuck two boxes of Cinnamon Toast Crunch for Dean into the cart.

“Heh, he's a character alright.” Evie replied, studying the front of a box of Reese's Puffs before tossing them into the cart with glee. “Let me paint you a picture, Sam.” She turned to face him and spread out her hands.

“Imagine a six foot tall, four feet wide, cuddly, chubby bear of a man who looks like a heavily tattooed Viking with a majestic sandy blonde beard and long, flowing dreadlocks falling past his chest. If you didn't know him and met him in the street, you'd think he'd murder your Granny for a Mar's Bar and a bag of pennies if you so much as looked at him wrong but he's the sweetest, funniest, most immature and deeply lovable soul I've ever met.”

She gave a longing sigh and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she continued her glowing description. “Barry Bananas is the closest I'll ever get to having a big brother watchin' my back. He's ten years older than me but the age gap was never an issue growing up together and he always looked out for me right from the day I was born so I knew no different.”

Sam crossed his arms loosely over his chest and listened intently, smiling softly as he watched her eyes shine with positive emotions as she spoke fondly of her cousin.

“We have so much in common that we're practically the same person in a lot of ways. I'm primarily a metalhead but I like other types of music, Sam....but Barry? For such a gentle, easy-going guy, he listens to some of the most savage, angry, brutal death metal that will make you want to perform an exorcism on him. He can really let rip and sing the stuff too!” She chuckled and shook her head.

“Y'think my display of screaming along to Robert Plant back in the car earlier was impressive? _Barry can summon demonic noises from the blackest pits of Hell itself through the power of his voice alone._ It's terrifying and exilerating in equal measure. I honestly don't think we've ever spent more than a week out of each other's company up until he moved to Boston two years ago...”

Sam regarded her keenly, happy to remain quiet as he listened to her talk, her lilting Irish accent adding a lyrical tone to her words as she continued, walking slowly down the aisle with him, occassionally pausing to inspect a random item on a shelf.

“He was always a creative type, insanely talented right from the off with all kinds of art. I tell ya, Sammy, my good man, if I ever found him without a sketchbook in his hands and a mess of art supplies by his side, I'd probably think he was a shifter and dropkick him in the face!” Evie chuckled, holding up a large yellow box of toaster strudel for Sam to look at, her face silently asking him if he wanted to buy it.

He nodded, hair falling across his face as he took the box from her and added it to the ever-growing cart full of groceries. “Sure thing.”

“It was no surprise to anyone in our family when he got straight As in Art class all through his schooling, shunning a typical shitty retail or office job straight out of high school to dive headfirst into an apprenticeship at a big tattoo studio in the city centre. Honestly, he found his true calling in life and as his tattooing skills grew to epic proportions over the years, he's done his time touring all over Ireland and the UK hitting up conventions and doing guest spots all over the place.

Not gonna lie, I was a bit jealous to see him rakin' in that fat cash but I was happy for him all the same.”

Evie stretched up on her toes, balancing precariously as she tried to pluck a huge bottle of ready-made waffle mix from a high shelf, grunting as her muscles strained from the exhertion. Sam stepped around the cart and helped her, his long arms and tall stature more than enough to effortlessly take the item down and move it to the cart.

Done with the breakfast and cereal aisle for the time being, they walked around the corner to find a wall of freezers full of frozen meat products and ready meals, a sprawling butcher's counter with a fishmongers at the far end taking up the majority of the floor, finding Dean bent over to peer at some gigantic T-bone steaks in the display window, practically drooling at the chunks of beefy goodness in front of him.

Evie stifled a giggle, considering smacking his perky buttocks straining against the tight denium of his Wranglers as they past by without him noticing but she thought better of herself, remembering how she'd previously promised not to rile him up.

She and Sam stopped in front of a freezer full of ready-made curry dishes, creamy pastas, lasagne and other popular meal options, seeing a good Buy-One-Get-One-Free offer on a specific brand of spaghetti in either spicy tomato or white wine sauces which they promptly added to the cart.

“Y'know, when I first started watching the antics of you, Dean and Cas on a regular basis, after about three or four seasons, I got an itch to be a massive dweeb and get a show-related tattoo.” Evie said, reaching behind her to rub her fingers along the hidden lines of her sizable inking, glancing at Sam from over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I-uh-I saw part of it when you came out of the shower last night.” He scratched at his chin, frowning slightly; “Why did you get a Devil's Trap, though? That symbol's for keeping demons contained in a force field so they can't cause havok, not ward against them-”

“Heh, a common misconception, Sammy. Here, take a good look and see for yourself.”

With little to no regard for the fact that they were standing in the middle of a busy supermarket, she grabbed the end of the baggy t-shirt she wore and hitched the fabric high, pulling her head through the top and Sam balked, thinking she was going to take it off entirely but instead, she held it against her chest, barely concealing her modesty.

Sam blushed, seeing she wasn't wearing a bra and he tried not to let his gaze linger too long on the side of her small breasts, quickly coughing and turning his attention to the tattoo that covered the full expanse of her back.

It was a somewhat simplistic, minimalist design, a perfect unbroken circle etched in crisp black lines that varied in width as they merged to form a pentacle, the triangles containing a number of smaller shapes and symbols in thin, contrasting lines. Just at the base of her spine, right above the small curve of her ass was a much smaller tattoo, also a black and white number, bold Gothic script spelling out three simple words:

 

“ _Keep On Fighting_.”

 

Sam ran his tongue over his lips and took a step forward, reaching out to brush the tips of his fingers lightly over the impressive design upon her pale skin.

It wasn't a Devil's Trap as he'd previously thought but an arcane, alchemy symbol that he couldn't quite place. He knew he had seen it somewhere before, possibly buried in one of the many books on symbology scattered throughout the bunker's library but right now, he just didn't know the meaning behind it.

Evie shivered at his touch, leaning into it and closing her eyes for a moment as he trailed his fingers down her spine, lingering at the dimples just above her ass and sweeping over the quotation shining out from her skin.

Sam wondered where the quote came from. It wasn't something he could recall saying recently but he smiled, considering it to be a noble motto to live by and commited it to memory for use in his own life.

“The _hell_ are you doin'?”Dean's bewildered voice snapped him and Evie back to Earth with a hard bump and Sam jumped back as Evie raced to pull her shirt back into place, a hot flush of pink tinting her cheeks as she turned around swiftly to face the older Winchester, flustered.

“Sweetheart, if you feel the urge to treat us all to a striptease, at least wait until I have a couple o' singles to spare!”Dean teased, pulling a $5 bill from his jacket pocket and waving it in her face.

“Shut your dick holster, Dean.”Evie snapped, pursing her lips at him; “I was just showin' Sammy my sweet back tattoo. No biggie.”

“Sure thing, doll...” Dean drawled, dumping a bag of steaks and a large frozen chicken into the cart before glancing around the aisle.

“Where's that baby in a trenchcoat?”

“Here I am, Dean.” Castiel appeared in Evie's line of sight, arms full of snacks, candy, beef jerky, a large bag of potato chips and two big frosty tubs of ice cream. He smiled demurely and added his stuff to the cart, which began to groan under the weight of all the groceries.

“We good to go here?” Dean queried, glancing between his brother, Evie and the angel in his midst.

“Yeah, I think I got everything I need.” said Sam, pushing his hair back; “Evie, you need anything else?”

A sudden realization dawned on her and she balked at the thought, shuffling her feet awkwardly and looking away from the three men in her company as her cheeks grew hot.

“I...I need a few things from the pharmacy...” she murmured sheepishly, trying hard not to cringe.

“Like what?” Castiel inquired curiously.

Sam quickly caught the drift and tried not to smirk at Evie's obvious embarassment.

“Cas, she needs-”

“T-Tampons and pads!”she blurted out before Sam could finish his sentance, wishing the floor would open up a portal to Hell and swallow her whole.

Dean was nonplussed and shrugged. “I'll get 'em.”He said simply, turning to head in the direction of the pharmacy at the opposite end of the building. “You need anything else like that? Heating pads, pain meds, chocolate, whatever?”

Evie looked up, surprised at how mature he was being about the whole subject. She smiled to herself, her mind conjuring up that one hilarious scene from _10 Inch Hero_ where a young Jensen Ackles in a comical Mall Goth ensemble faced a similar scenerio and handled it most admirably.

She began to laugh and Dean peered at her, his nose wrinkling slightly.

“Something funny?”

“No, no... it's just... you're being very mature about all this. I kinda expected you to be grossed out by any mention of my uterus...”

Dean pouted. “Oh, c'mon, Evie. I'm a grown ass man. I've bought tampons for chicks loads of times and it's no big deal. It's a perfectly normal, natural-if somewhat annoying- bodily function that effects a large number of the population so I don't see why people get so twisted out of shape over it.”

“You're awesome, Deano. Cheers to that.” Evie said with a warm smile.

“Don't mention it. Any specific painkiller you use?”

She thought for a moment, tapping her fingers on her chin.

“Whatever's the strongest one you can get without a prescription, Dean. My cramps can get pretty goddamn brutal sometimes so I need something strong enough to knock out an elephant.”

 

He nodded. “No problem.” Then, his lips curling in a wicked smirk, he glanced at Sam and licked his bottom lip; “You two need some condoms?”

Eyes bugging out in shock, Evie and Sam yelled out in unison.

“ _Dean_!”

“Now who's being awkward?!” Dean cackled to himself, pleased to have gotten her back from the incident in the restaurant as he relished the look of indignity on her face before he gave a scout's salute and headed in the direction of the pharmacy.

“Go pay for the shopping. I'll meet you guys at the car!” He called behind him before he rounded a corner and disappeared out of sight.

Rubbing her arms as embarassment washed over her, Evie cursed Dean under her breath for daring to make any mention of sexuality around herself and Sam. She looked up at him, seeing he was just as mortified as her, his cheeks bright red and rosey as he tried to avert his eyes, chewing awkwardly on his lip.

“C'mon...” He murmured; “Let's go pay for this shit and get outta here before I hunt down my brother and slap him into next week...”

Nodding in agreement, Evie didn't trust herself to speak, falling back behind Sam and Castiel as they went in search of an open cashier's desk...

 

\------

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own the song lyrics shown in this chapter, credit to the respective artists. Also, kareoke + bar hopping + a nice hefty dosage of voyerism = THIS CHAPTER. There is some smut, mainly Impala sex so if that a'int your bag, avoid this one.
> 
> Otherwise? Read on!

**CHAPTER FOUR**

After making quick work of stuffing the food groceries into the trunk of the Impala despite it already being chock full of weaponry, the gang lingered by the car for a few minutes, chatting amongst themselves and considering where to go next.

Evie expressed a keen interest in visiting the quirky thrift shop over the road, enamoured by a tantalising display of a discounted, slightly scuffed Gibson guitar mounted in the front window that called to her like a seductive siren. Explaining to men how the thrift stores back home were largely much more simple and sorely lacking in any sort of variety, they all soon agreed to go in, their visions bombarded on all fronts by a dizzying array of items bulging from the overstocked, hazardly organized shelves.

They split up to cover all the bases and so tasked with sorting out a wardrobe of clothing for herself, Evie strolled down the first aisle, soon surrounded by a gigantic, ecelectic array of vintage, second-hand and brand spanking new clothes.

She was spoilt for choice, gleeful as she flicked through the hangers and quickly found a slightly faded Slipknot t-shirt, black with the artwork for the “People=Shit” single on the front, pairing it up with some snug-looking black Levis with fashionable rips in the legs.

She found three more pairs of jeans in varying degrees of blue and grey denium, draping them over her left arm before adding to a growing pile a pair of blue khaki shorts, some pink volleyball pants with the word “JUICY” plastered across the ass in white letters, several more multi-coloured metal t-shirts, three dresses and a black leather mini-skirt. She briefly paused to heave the heavy pile into a nearby cart, her arm aching as the weight left it.

Feeling confident that she had a solid selection to begin with, she pushed on down the aisle, stopping at a selection of coats and jackets, settling for a medium-weight black leather trenchcoat that reminded her fondly of Wesley Snipe's one in the Blade movies.

Next came a simple brown rainproof trench, similar to Castiel's but a bit more feminine in style and cut before a vintage black leather biker jacket to compliment the matching mini-skirt satisfied her enough to finish hunting for clothing and swing right around a corner into the next aisle, which was well stocked with an assortment of footwear.

Evie spotted Dean nearby trying on a pair of sturdy grey motorcycle boots, crinkled slightly at the ankle from previous wear but still in good conditon, the dull metal banding around the ankle contrasting nicely against the thick old leather. He was frowning slightly and she figured the boots didn't fit him too comfortably as she watched him yank them off his feet with a grunt and fling them roughly back on the shelf.

“Problem?” she quipped, leaning against her metal cart and studying his face.

Dean turned at the sound of her voice and shrugged. “Too tight and kinda wet inside, which is all kinds of disgusting.”

“Eww, that's nasty, Dean. Better pick up some Scholl's powder so you don't get a rash.”

“Heh, yeah, we can do that.” He pulled a pair of near-mint condition bright red Chuck Taylors off a nearby shelf and studied the tag on the tongue.

“These might suit you, Evie. What size you take?”

“Uhh, a UK size 6. What's that in American terms?”

“Eehh, not too difficult to figure out. Says here that's just a size 6.5 in our terms.”

“Sure thing, dude. Lemme try 'em on.” Evie said brightly, slipping off her oversized flip-flops and tugging on the Chucks, wiggling her toes down into them and taking a few steps around the aisle to get a good feel for the fit. They hugged her feet like they were made just for her and she grinned, pulling them off and throwing them into the cart with the rest of her potential purchases.

Dean was kind enough to help her pick out three more pairs of sneakers including a fun pair of hi-top Converse decorated with a colourful image of Mario that was perfect save for a small smudge of dirt on the left heel.

She picked out a well-worn pair of slightly dulled purple Doc Martens with yellow laces peeking through the ten eyelets, adding it to her collection. She was about to move out of the aisle when she stopped, eyes widening as she spotted a absolutely gorgeous pair of knee-high combat boots sitting on a far shelf just above her head, calling to her wantonly.

“ _Deeean_ , look!” she cooed, pointing to the tantalizing pair and Dean chuckled, reaching up to pull the boots down off the shelf as she was too short to do it herself.

“There's only one pair. Hope they fit.”

“Ohh, I hope so. Decent knee high combats are almost impossible to find back home for a good price in sturdy quality. All the ones I've had over the years with the exception of a great pair I snagged off German Amazon for a steal have all fallen apart after less than six months of daily wear. It's fucking _tragic_ , man!”

Dean sniffed, turning over the boots in his hands and peering at the price tag. They were $100 which was pretty fair and he passed them over to Evie who relished running her fingers along the material, noting the thick, chunky rubber soles studded with metal, the toes heavy with a steel cap that was quite pleasing and the heels reinforced with both metal and padding for a comfortable fit that was more than likely to withstand a lot of abuse.

She tugged them on and laced them up half-way, once more walking along the aisle to get comfortable and she squealed as she found them just as perfect a fit as the Chucks Dean had suggested.

He grinned at her delight, shaking his head with a chuckle.

“Heh, luck of the Irish!”

“I'll say! Hope it doesn't run out any time soon before I see how far I can push it.”

He stepped further down the aisle and paused to inspect a pair of fleece lined Army boots in regulation green with black laces, tugging them on to fit and pleased to find they were extremely comfortable so he added them to his own cart, which was pretty full of clothing, a handful of assorted vinyl records, about a dozen different tape cassettes for the Impala and a couple of gaudy novelty belts.

“You see anything else you like, Evie?” Dean inquired kindly, drumming his fingers on the edge of his cart.

“I think I'm good here for now, Dean, thanks. Let's go and have a look around the books. I could do with some decent reading material.”

Dean scoffed at this. “Woman, there's an _entire library_ of shit in the bunker, at least two thousand or so books if my first guess is anything to go by. What more do you need?”

“Yeah, all those books are chock full of research material and mythology and whilst I'm open to them, I do have other interests and get easily bored, y'know.”

“Hmm, fair point. Okay, let's go take a look.” He smirked at her; “Maybe I'll stumble across a cache of classic _Busty Asian Beautys!_ ”

“Urgh, you're such a pervert, Dean. Bit early in the day to talk about porn, dont'cha think?” Evie replied with a bemused purse of her lips as she followed Dean into the next aisle, which was postively heaving with a dazzling assortment of books in varying conditions, from small simple paperbacks, colourful Japanese mangas, boxes of retro comic books from all sorts of companies both popular and underground to gigantic coffee table tomes that looked like they could do some serious damage if hurled through the air at someone's head.

Dean branched off slightly, content to rummage through the boxes of comics with keen interest, almost like a kid in a candy store, every so often letting out a sound of delight whenever he stumbled across an old favorite from his childhood that he wound up chucking into his cart.

Sure enough, Evie sighed with mild exasperation when he inevitably found a treasure trove of _Busty Asian Beautys_ dating all the way back to the early 1970s.

He pulled one open on the centrefold, spread out over the top of the comic boxes and whistled at the sight of a Japanese model lying sprawled across a silk-covered bed, gigantic Seventies afro bush on full display only just shielding her genitalia as her legs were splayed open and her eyes gave a sexy come-hinter-look up at him, the photo in the typical fuzzy soft-focus accurate to the time-frame.

“Damn, that's one helluva lady garden!” Evie quipped, wrinkling her nose as she stared at the porn in front of her.

“Heh-heh, you're not wrong there, Evie!”

“Don't tell me that amount of hair turns you on, Dean...!”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, considering her query for a moment.

“Pussy is pussy, Evie. Hair is pretty harmless and don't really care if a chick is shaved or not but if you pressed me on it I guess I prefer things simply groomed whatever way she likes herself so she's comfortable with lettin' me go to town on her but yeah, gotta say, big ol' hairy bushes are so much fun to bury my face in. Shit tickles, y'know!”

Evie stuck out her tongue in mock-disgust.

“I'll take you at your word, Dean. You have unconventional tastes, I give you that. Any other specific kinks that get your motor running just out of curiousity?”

“Funny, we've barely known each other less than 48 hours and you're already askin' me about my sexual preferences?”said Dean, cocking a brow at her.

“Oh shut up, ya dope! _You're_ the one who just whipped out a crusty ol' nudey magazine and opened it out for virtually anyone to stumble across! Besides, we're both adults here and considering how admirely you handled buying me feminine hygiene stuff back at Walmart, I feel pretty relaxed about talking to you 'bout the naughty things!” Evie replied, folding her arms and tilting her head, batting her lashes lazily.

“Well, you do have a good point.” Dean pressed on and with some degree of effort giving how incredibly heavy it was, he pulled a thick black leather bound coffee table book from a high shelf nearby, placing it across the comic book boxes and flinging it open at a random page.

“ _Holy fucking shit!”_ Evie cried, bug-eyed at the glossy photograph that greeted her upon peering at the centrefold.

If she didn't know better, she could've sworn she was gawking down at a picture of Dean Winchester himself, completely naked and obviously aroused, skin slick with a thin film of either sweat or baby oil-she couldn't tell- sitting on a black wooden chair with both arms and legs tied tightly to it with shining golden ropes, an intricate, beautiful Shibari pattern lacing over his entire torso starting at his neck, only stopping to loop around the base of his swollen, dewy cock.

The model's head was thrown back in an expression of pure fetishistic ecstasy and he looked dangerously close to cumming. Evie felt an alarming rush of blood to her vagina at the sight, surprised to feel her chemically blunted libido slowly claw it's way of the shallow, unmarked grave it had been buried in ever since she first wound up in the hospital not so long ago.

She gave a small sigh, bit her bottom lip in an obvious way and ran her nails over a sweet spot near her left clavicle, trying hard to ignore the erotic stirrings within her.

No word of a lie, whilst she had a healthy attraction to Dean just as much as the next Supernatural fangirl, her affections were strongest towards Sam and besides, it was _so_ much different considering Dean was standing right next her in corpreal flesh and blood, watching her actions closely and trying hard not to smirk.

“You're a little turned on, aren't ya?” Dean purred wickedly, relishing the hot blush that shot into her face.

“ _You shut your whore mouth!”_

“You've got such a shitty poker face, Evie. It's hysterical to watch you get all flustered like this!”

He flipped to the next pages, revealing another tantalizing two-page spread, this one of a tall, long-haired man with a black leather Kato mask at his eyes, bare-chested with slick, taunt muscles on display, legs clad in tight black leather as he stood barefoot in a confident stance with a riding crop pulled taunt in both hands, a completely naked blonde woman with a curvavious body and a chunky silver slave collar around her neck kneeling before him, staring up at him in silent worship.

“Goddamn, that's kinda hot!” Dean exclaimed, shifting a little on his feet.

Evie could've sworn he too was beginning to grow aroused and she traced the tips of her fingers over the man in the picture's face. If she really squinted, he could almost resemble Sam and she swallowed hard, pushing the thought aside before she made a holy show of herself in public.

Evie snapped the book shut and stared at it for a long minute, taking in the deceptively vague design on the cover, which was of the word “ _TABOO_ ” in ornate silver letters, revealing little in the way of the salicious photographs spanning close to 500 pages.

“You, uh, wanna buy it?”Dean said to her, breaking the heated silence between them as he stared at her expectantly.

“Uhhm, o-okay, Dean, if you insist. It _is_ pretty well put together considering how pornographic it is...I'm honestly quite surprised it's been sold here so openly. Thought this store was supposed to be family-friendly!” Evie replied, pushing her hair out of her face and hefting the heavy book into her cart where it crushed down the top of her pile of assorted clothing.

“I won't tell the others about it if you don't, Evie, but I'm not gonna lie, first chance I get, if you cross me again, I won't hesitate to use it against you.” Dean playfully threatened, grinning widely at her irate expression as she roughly flipped him her middle finger.

“You fuck right off, asshole!”

“Ooh, I love it when a chick talks dirty! Keep that up and I might just take you up against a secluded section of the clothing aisle, ya damn tease!”

Evie bristled and landed a firm punch to his chest, winding him slightly and making him wince.

“Ooff, alright already! I give up! I'm just kidding, damnit! No need for violence! Besides...” he sniffed and rubbed his nose, sweeping his green eyes over her and giving her a withering look; “...Even if I _did_ like you that way, you are _way too fuckin' skinny_ for me, Evie. I mean, would it kill you to scarf down a couple more burgers? Goddamn, you are painfully thin! I'm worried!”

“Fuck off, Dean!”

“I'm serious, Evie.” Dean's smile dipped and and he looked at her with concern; “You are obviously underweight and if you're gonna stick with us, you need to build up your physical strength if you're to stand any chance against the dangers we face on a regular basis. First chance I get, I'll grab some protein powder and whip you up some tasty shakes. You like peanut butter stuff, right?”

Evie groaned, the subject of her scant weight having always been a major bone of contention with her for as long as she could care to remember. Even so, she appreciated his concern and decided to explain the reason for it, figuring he'd be a bit more understanding.

“I've always been a skinny girl, Dean. Can't help it. It's in my blood and comes from my entire Ma's side of the family. Every woman on her side with the exception of my aunt Jackie who _really_ bloated out when she got smacked in the face with early menopause, have always been painfully small. It sucks. I'd _love_ to have the curves to look sexy in a corset or a low-cut dress but I take what I'm given and deal with it as best as I can.”

She nibbled lightly on her left thumbnail, thinking.

“You should've met my granddad Samuel, though everyone used to call him Slim 'cause he straight up looked like a Holocaust survivor even before the cancer drained the last drops of life from his bones. Do yourself a huge favor, Deano, and fucking book in for a prostate exam. That little shit can be a silent killer.”

Dean gave her a sympathetic expression.

“I'm sorry for your loss. Cancer's a heartless bitch.”

“Mmmm, I know. I miss him dearly. I was only around 8 when he died and it was the first time in my life I ever had a loss in the family. He was so awesome. You would've gotten on with him like a house on fire. He used to love fishing, hiking and all that jazz, a real man's man but at the same time, he was extremely kind and would regularly bring me and my cousin Barry into town for a Knickerbocker Glory after a trip to the cinema-”

“ _A Knicka-what-now?_ ” Dean questioned, confused.

Evie gave a wistful smile. “It's a type of ice cream sundae, Dean. Delicious stuff- three different kinds of ice cream, tons of whipped cream, fruit salad at the bottom of a tall glass, cherries and loads of chocolate sauce. _Absolutely humming_ with sugar but sure, it was a rare enough treat and I used to absolutely love them. Haven't had one since Slim died, though. I can't bring myself to do it. It's too painful and special to me.”

Reaching over and snaking a strong arm around Evie's shoulders to comfort her, he gave her a light squeeze and rubbed his hand along her forearm.

“You don't have to talk any further about him if it really pains you, Evie. I've lost a lot of people in my own life and I understand completely how you feel. The grief never fully goes away. It just fades a good bit until you can get through life without it becoming overwelming.”

“Yeah, you're right, Dean... thanks for being so understanding.” She reached up and planting a small peck on his cheek, feeling a light five o' clock shadow brushing her lips.

“C'mon...” He said purposefully, pushing ahead out of the book aisle; “...Think Sam and Cas are around here somewhere. Let's see what they've rustled up.”

 

Evie nodded and followed him with an even pace, soon meeting back up with the others in the middle of the electronics aisle. Arms swamped with a mass of cables, tangled up controllers and a chunky Super Nintendo, Sam bounced giddily on the balls of his feet, grinning like an idiot over his find and practically bursting with exuberance.

“Guys, guys, guys! Check it out! It's a kickass SNES! I've _always_ wanted one of these bad boys! This one's in great condition and there's about a million games in a box over there-” he jerked his head at a shelf behind him where Castiel was peering at a cartridge of _Ocarina of Time_ in his hand.

“All at a major discount! This day is turning out to be fucking awesome!”

“Heh, you're like a kid at Christmas, Sammy. How much is it?” Dean queried, peeking at the console in his arms for any sign of a price tag.

“I think the entire collection'll set me back a couple o' hundred bucks but I honestly don't care. This is the find of the centuary and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let it slip away! Evie, there's a freakin' Scope Gun over there! I know there's an suitable old TV in Dean's man cave we can hook this up to so when we get back to the bunker, I'm gonna tan your bony ass in _Yoshi's Safari_!”

“Pffft, please, Sam. I've been playin' Nintendo consoles since I was three years old. My combat skills are not great in real life but I will annilate you in _Streetfighter Turbo_!” Evie purred cooly, licking her lips and grinning at his excitement over finding the games.

“C'mon kids, let's go pay for all this stuff and get outta here. It's startin' get kinda late and I'd like to be back home before it starts getting dark outside.” said Dean, moving to head for the cash desk only for Evie to stop him in his tracks with a firm hand on his wrist.

“Yeah, what is it, Sweetheart?”

“Can we do one more thing before we go back to the bunker?” she said, studying his face for a reaction to the request she was about to put in. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, sighing at the unruly, tired state it was in.

“I could _really_ use a haircut at the very least or if you let me, a full couple of hours pampering in a salon. I know it's a real girly thing to do but I feel I need it to get back to my old self again. You don't have to come with me if you don't want to. I'm perfectly capable of getting a haircut on my own but if you fancy it, I think I spotted a tacky Irish pub on the way into town that y'all can go relax in.”

Dean nodded brightly. “Sure, it's no problem. Actually, it just occured to me that Stacy gets off work at six so we can stick around for a while.”

Evie grimaced at him. “Eww, you're not gonna go fuck her in the backseat of the Impala, are you? Don't be gross!”

Dean bristled slightly. “Hey, it's my car and I do whatever the hell I want in! Besides, I really need a good lay. It's been weeks and I keep strikin' out. You also got my engine revvin' back there in the book aisle with that particular tome you picked out, Evie.”

He eyed the book sitting her cart, licking his lips saliciously; “Gotta do somethin' about that!”

 

“What book?” Sam queried, peering into her cart and reaching out to pick it up with curiousity. Panicing, Evie shooed him back and pushed the cart out of reach, heading towards the cashier's counter with a hot blush beginning to form on her face.

“It's nothing, Sammy, don't mind your brother.” She glanced back over her shoulder at Castiel, who had a small basket hooked over one arm.

“You need anything else, Castiel or you good?”

“I'm fine, Evie.” He said politely, reaching into his own stash and pulling out a clear Gameboy Colour. “I picked up two of these so we can each play games on long car journeys ahead as we drive around towards potential cases.” He smiled down at the device in his hands.

“I've never played it but I hear the little Japanese monsters are pretty popular these days...”

“Oh, hell yeah!” Sam whooped, giving Castiel a high-five. “Pokemon! _Gotta catch 'em all!_ ”He sang slightly off-key, grinning as he took the Gameboy from the angel and glanced at the cartridge in the slot at the back. This was the yellow Pikachu version and he relished the prospect of whooping Castiel in a spirited battle of skills and pixelated creatures.

“Let's get movin'.” said Dean, rolling his eyes at his brother's shamelessly nerdy display before they all went and paid for their purchases, the combined grand total clocking in at just under $1000.

 

Thank God for credit card fraud...

\---------

The boys dropped Evie off at a nearby fancy beauty salon, arranging to meet up soon in the Irish bar across the street and so, bolstered by the idea of wetting their collective whistles after a long while shopping for supplies and fun things to cater for the new addition to their little hunting party, Sam, Castiel and Dean sauntered into the bar, taking up three leather bar stools and promptly ordering a round of drinks from the burly but friendly ginger bar-man.

About an hour into a few leasurely drinks, the place began to fill up as the minutes ticked into 5pm and a house band began to set up shop on the stage in the back, plugging in cables and large amps, screwing together a large drum kit and spending an inordinate amount of time tuning their instruments to a satsifactory setting until, 6pm on the dot, they were finally ready and the air was filled with a rousing remdition of “ _Kiss Me, I'm Shitfaced”_ by The Dropkick Murphys.

“So, Sammy...” Dean started over the steady rumble of the music ringing through the bar; “...Thoughts on Evie? I know it hasn't been long but she's pretty cool all things considered...”

“Yeah, she really is, Dean. I do like her a lot even though it's been an inordinately short space of time since we met her but hey, despite all her troubles, she has a really strong, interesting personality and while I'd love to get to know her better, please don't encourage me to attempt a stab at pursuing her in terms of a potential one-night stand or anything. It's _way_ too early and the last thing I wanna do is take advantage of her while she's slowly coming round from all the mental problems.”

Sam replied sincerely, stealing a glance towards the door and seeing only a brawny bald-headed bouncer but no sign of Evie returning yet.

“That seems fair, man. You're being a lot more sensible than usual. Still, take a good look around, Sammy. See any chicks you like?” Dean said, sweeping a hand to indicate the abundence of good looking women in the large audience on the dancefloor bouncing in time to the band's performance.

“Do you really think we stand a clear chance at helping her get back home?” Castiel interjected, nursing a bottle of Coors Light and peering at them both with interest.

“No idea, Cas and to be honest, I'd rather not think about it right now. We had a lot of fun today and it was nice to enjoy a new person's fresh perspective on things so why rush? Let her prolong her time here for a bit and enjoy it for what it is. Lord knows after all she's been through she could use a lighter change of pace.”

Dean swallowed a shot of fine Gleneagle whiskey, chasing it with a mouthful of strong lager and wiped a creamy foam mustashe off his top lip.

Sam sat hunched at the bar, twiddling his thumbs as he listened to the band, now currently shredding on the Metallica cover of _Whiskey In The Jar._ He bopped his head and briefly sang along to the rousing lyrics, wondering to himself how a set like this would go down in a real bar in Ireland and he smiled, well aware at how crazy the Irish could get after a day of hard drinking.

He remembered vaguely something a college roommate once told him, a turn of phrase called “ _Craic Agus Ceogh”_ that accurately summed up the life and soul of the Irish party atomosphere but for the life of him, he couldn't recall the direct translation right now.

Sam decided to ask Evie about it at a later time, figuring he could learn a great deal about her culture from a few hours of deep conversation on the subject and he smiled at that. It would certainly be a great way to get to know her even more...

Another hour went by at an easy pace but by now, half-deaf from a blistering performance of Iron Maiden's _The Trooper_ ringing in his ears, Dean was starting get restless with worry for Evie, fidgetting impatiently in his stool and constantly eying the door for any sign of the friendly Irish woman.

Sighing, he turned back to the bar and knocked back another shot of Gleneagle, relishing the smooth taste of the whiskey as it washed nicely over his tongue. Dean couldn't believe he'd waited this long to try it out because it was fan- _bloody_ -tastic and incredibly easy to drink.

So absorbed in enjoying his drink, Dean didn't immediately react when a small hand brushed up his back and gently urged him to turn around.

 

“Aloha, cowboy!” Evie's voice roused him from his merry reverie and he turned, prompting Sam and Castiel to do the same.

Dean and Sam both jumped at the sight of her standing before them.

She looked radient, her skin pink and glowing happily from a good pampering that possibly involved an intense full-body massage and as the two Winchester siblings raked their eyes over her body, they both smiled in unison at her new appearence.

Gone was the tired out waist-lenght frazzled brown hair that made her look worn out and instead was replaced with a chic, sleek bob that stopped a few inches past her jaw, dyed jet black and shimmering brightly under the spotlights on the ceiling.

Her tiny body was wrapped in some of the new clothes she'd picked up in the thrift shop earlier, a heavy metal uniform of her Slipknot t-shirt, biker jacket and leather mini-skirt, her legs clad in the combat boots she loved so much.

Evie was grinning widely, her emerald eyes sparkling and coated in a smokey combination of grey and dark blue eyeshadow, her lips full and stained with a delectable shade of oxblood lipstick, her foundation barely there and the sickly palor of her skin deftly concealed with the subtle make-up.

Sam's breath hitched inside his chest. She looked amazing and he felt no hesitation in telling her that fact, causing her to blush and punch him lightly in the shoulder, embarassed by the sweet compliment but happy to hear it.

She pulled up a stool and plopped down onto it, leaning on the top of the bar and scanning the wide range of assorted alcohol groaning on the massive shelves behind it.

“Oooh, they have Rumbulion!” She squealed joyously, pointing to a fat round jug-like bottle in the middle of the selection of bottles, wedged between a litre of Captain Morgan's and a massive vat of what appeared to be home-made poitin.

“What, you can't get Rumbulion back home?” said Dean, tilting his half-empty glass of whiskey at her.

Evie nodded and propped her chin on her elbow. “Yeah, it blows chunks. No-where sells it in Dublin and the only reason I like it in the first place is because Barry once brought two bottles home from his first trip to Boston and we devoured it with gusto, ending up waking up in a random field the next morning about five miles from home covered in cow shit.”

Sam looked disgusted but barked out a laugh. “Wow, you can _really_ party!”

“A'int that the truth, Sammy! I can normally hand my alcohol well enough but even I have my limits and Rumbulion is just a whole other beast of a drink. I love it but holy Hell, the hangovers are fucking brutal. Worth it, though!” She flagged the bar-man down and leaned forward, unconsciously squeezing her breasts together and making Sam's inner thighs twitch with a flicker of excitement.

The bar-man came over and flashed her a grin, slinging a dishcloth jauntly over his right shoulder and regarding her with interest.

“Howya! What can I get you, love?” He said and Evie was delighted to hear he had a stronger inner city Dublin accent than herself.

“Double Rumbulion on the rocks, my good man and keep 'em comin'! I'm settling in for a long night!”

“Comin' right up!” the bar-man replied brightly, making light work of pouring her drink and settling it down on a brightly coloured beer mat. He stood back and crossed his arms, smiling fondly.

“Hey, what part of Ireland you hail from? Always nice to meet a fellow native out in the wilds!”

“I was born on my grandmother's kitchen floor in Howth but I grew up just outside Portrane. I was always drawn to the coast from the moment I drew my first breath.” Evie extended her hand warmly and the bar-man shook it with a firm grip.

“I'm from around Drumcondra meself. Name's Wayne Kinsella, please to meet ya!”

“Evie Keogh! Pleasure's all mine, pet!”

Wayne studied her for a hot minute, his ginger brows furrowing somewhat.

“Wait, _Evie Keogh_? Is that short for Everlyn by any stretch?”

 

“Umm, yeah, why?”

 

“Think you're my cousin's ex-girlfriend. The name rings a clear bell.”

Evie sat back, momentarily winded. “I-wow, okay, talk about a small world! So, Dylan is your cousin, huh? Hmm, not that I care all that much but what's that rat bastard doin' with himself these days out of morbid curiousity?”

Wayne sniffed, his face creasing into an expression of mild distaste.

“I'm not paticularly close with him all things considered. Like you just said, he's a _total bastard_ and not someone with an attractive personality. Still, since you asked me outright, I'll tell you that the last I heard of him, he wound up marrying some skank he barely knows after he knocked her up. Urgh, I keep tellin' the guy to wrap it before he taps it but he never fuckin' listens to anyone-”

Evie's eyes bugged out in utter disbelief at what she just heard.

“What the _fuck?_! He got _married_?! With a goddamn baby on the way?!”

“Yeah. Crazy, huh?” said Wayne with a tone of sympathy as he watched Evie slump back in her seat, her face a picture of horror.

“What kind of _deluded woman_ in her right mind would tie herself to a selfish, manipulative little bollocks like Dylan, much less let him fuck her without a rubber?! Mind you, the whole time we were together, he was always bitchy about using condoms...”

“Sounds like a pretty shitty relationship, Evie.” Sam interjected, brows furrowed as he held up his empty beer glass for a refill.

Wayne nodded and poured him another pint of Budweizer, setting it down in front of him before continuing.

“Every single relationship he's had as far as I've seen has crashed and burned spectactularly so I don't put much faith in his marriage lastin' too long. I give it six months at a stretch...”

“What's the unlucky girl's name out of interest?” Evie sighed, fisting her hair. She utterly hated thinking about her last ex, the memories turbulent in her head and the deep emotional scars banding around her much-maligned heart aching uncomfortably inside her chest.

Still, morbid curiousity was a powerful force and she found herself compelled to hear more, a glutton for punishment.

Wayne topped up her Rumbulion, throwing in a free extra measure out of pity to turn it into a triple and leaned on the bar top. “Danielle if I remember right-”

“ _Urrrgh, you're fucking jokin' me...!”_

Dean frowned at this. “You know her?”

Evie nodded, turning to him with extreme and profound pain threatening to pool tears behind her emerald eyes but she held them at bay admirably before speaking in a strained voice, her head dipping towards her chest.

“Unfortunately yes, Dean and I have a lot of rage towards that evil little bitch. She was the leader of a gang of girls in high school who made it their life's work to terrorize me for five straight years but she was the cruelest one out of the whole rotten bunch.”

“Oooff, that's rough. Wanna talk about it?” Dean sympathised, his eyes understanding as he watched her struggle to hold her emotions in check.

Evie took a massive swig of her drink and nearly smashed the glass as she slammed it down hard on the wooden bartop. “Yeah, fuck it, alright Deano but it's not a story I relish telling.”

Wayne rubbed his tidy ginger beard and glanced down the other end of the bar where a merry group of women obviously on a bachelorette night just walked in, all jaunty party hats, pink feather boas and L-plates around their necks. His manager was tending to them, occassionally looking back at Wayne and scowling at him.

“Listen, I'd _absolutely_ love to hang out here and swap war stories with ye, Evie, but my manager's gonna kick my pasty arse if I don't water the locals so I'll talk to you when things calm down, okay? If you need more drinks, just holler at me.”he petted Evie's hand lightly and gave her a pitying smile before heading down the bar to tend to the new customers.

The band started playing _Here Comes The Hotstepper_ by Ini Kamose and Evie perked up slightly, momentarily bolstered by a familiar track from her time growing up in the Ninties.

Still, she could feel Sam, Dean and Castiel watch her expectantly, quietly waiting for her to open up about her turbulent experiences getting mercilessly bullied in high school. With a sigh, she swallowed down the last of her Rumbulion, her thoughts dulling a little as the alcohol began to work it's magic in calming her.

“Okay, boys... let me tell you the tragic tales of my youth.”

 

“We're all ears, Evie. Take your time. It's good to open up and unburden yourself. We all have our own crosses to bare.” said Castiel in understanding, passing her down a packet of pork rinds he had somehow finagled off Wayne while she was chatting to him.

Evie nodded and tore the snack open, stuffing her mouth quickly and choking them down with a grunt, not bothering to relish the taste of bacon on her tongue.

“Right-o. So get this, right? I didn't have a fantastic childhood as I'm sure y'all probably know by now. I grew up in a household that was marred with domestic violence inflicted by the cunt who is my father, largely on my poor mother but later on myself as I grew older and attempted to stand up to him and defend her and myself from his near-daily onslaught of abuse.”

The boys nodded silently, their expressions dark as they quietly urged her to continue.

“I was twelve years old when I started out at the local all-girl's Catholic high school and as much as you like to fantazise, Dean, it was nothing like here in America- no sexy school girls in teeny skirts running around like jailbait, engaging in bouts of experiemental lesbianism and having pillow fights in their knickers.”

“Figures...” Dean replied, swigging back his whiskey. “Go on, I'm listenin'.”

“Yeah, so, from my first day out of the gate, I was a prime target. Out in the yard, most girls ignored me because I was a really shy, introverted kid covered in ill-disguised bruises and at the time, I was nursing a bad hairline fracture in my right wrist which made writing a pain in the hole.” She held up the limb in question and flexed it, emitting an audibly loud crack even above the music, making Sam wince.

“That's so terrible, Evie. What happened next?”

“Heh, remember that one scene in the first Harry Potter movie where Harry and Draco Malfoy first met? My first encounter with Danielle and her army of bitchy friends was a lot like that. She was a spoilt little rich kid from the posher side of Kinsely, a few years older than me and it showed- despite the dress code, she was dripping in expensive gold rings and necklaces, her hair bleached blonde to an inch of it's life and styled perfectly whilst her face was fucking caked in make-up and enough fake tan to make Donald Trump look like a goddamn three-week old corpse.”

“Urgh, I know what you're on about, Evie.” said Sam, sipping his beer and regarding her relatably over the rim; “I saw a lot of really bad bullying from women like that even in Stanford while I was there and a few times, I had to step in for my friends and shoot that bullshit right down.”

Evie smiled at him and gave his bicep a little squeeze, trying not to get too ahead of herself in relishing the feeling of the taunt muscle in her hand.

“You're such a good man, Sam. I only wish we knew each other back then so you'd stick up for me when the going got tough. I mean, don't get me wrong, I had Barry to help but there was only so much he could do and he had his own problems, what with his parents locked in a bitter divorce battle an' all. I had virtually no real friends I could rely on back then and it was _so fucking lonely_ that it only added to the growth of severe depression I was already suffering with.”

She sniffled a little and blew her nose on a napkin before pressing on despite the knot growing in the pit of her stomach.

“Like I told Dean back in the thrift store, I've always been painfully thin despite regularly eating like a fucking pig but no matter what I did, I just couldn't keep even the _slightest_ bit of weight on my frame and that lead Danielle and her hoard of minions to quickly spread malicious rumors that I was anorexic.”

“Jesus!” Sam exclaimed, his brows crinkled with disgust while he flagged down Wayne and got him to refill their dwindling drinks. “Did _anyone_ do anything to help?”

“ _God, Sam_ , I tried so damn hard to make it stop but I had no allies. I went to the more sympathic, kinder teachers I got on with but whilst they talked a lot of action, not a single thing was ever done to curb the rumors and the bullying just got steadily worse when those bitches found out I snitched.

My mother got involved, bless her heart, and threatened to pull me out of school as my grades were dropping through the floor along with my attendence but the fuckwit principal threatened to have _her_ arrested for my truency if I didn't shape up so she was caught between a rock an' a hard place.”

Dean's voice rose with righteous fury for Evie's plight.

“ _What the hell kinda shop are they runnin' in Ireland, goddamnit?!_ You're the one gettin' a fuckin' onslaught of abuse and they threaten to arrest your _mother?!_ ”

“Yeah, shit's fucked, brah.” Evie sighed, taking a sip of her fresh drink, the wedge of lime in the golden liquid bumped against the ice as her hand shook slightly as her own anger simmered under the surface.

“Things took a _really_ bad turn about a year or two later when I got stricken down with a nasty dose of swine flu that was sweepin' the country in a really big way. I couldn't stay home because my father didn't work and wasn't exactly a paragon of parental love and devotion and my mother's only escape was her part-time job working as a cleaner so I had to suck it up and go to school even though I genuinely thought I was going to die.”

She steadied herself, scrunching her eyes in pain at the memory and let out a little whimper.

“At one point when I was incredibly sick, I had to go throw up violently in the girl's toilets and _of fucking course_ , Danielle and her cronies were right outside the stall the whole time I was pukin' my goddamn ring up. They soon went to the year head, told them I was doing some anorexic purging and though I desperately, franticly tried to tell everyone I was dying of the flu, no-one ever believed me and took the bullies side, which ended up with me being heavily supervised for two whole years by one of the more stricter teachers in the whole _fucking_ joint. I mean, I couldn't even eat my damn lunch without suspicion or a million questions asking me if I had an eating disorder and forget having any privacy when takin' a shit...”

Unable to hold back anymore, Evie's shoulders began to shake as she shuddered out a series of low, angry sobs. Dean and Sam reacted like a shot, pulling her into a deep, comforting embrace and let her cry herself out for about twenty minutes, Castiel holding back some what but offering a timid, kind squeeze of her left hand as he gave her a pitying smile, feeling her tremble violently until the tears washed away, leaving faint lines in her foundation and a unhealthy trickle of smudged eyeliner.

During her crying, Wayne had returned and in a bid to help, had set a large box of napkins on the bar and a fresh round of drinks including a triple Rumbulion full of lime wedges, watching the sorry scene with concern as he stood polishing a glass tumbler with a dishcloth.

“Hey, sweetie.” The ginger-bearded Irishman said gently once Evie had eventually composed herself enough to sit up straight in her stool, still with Sam's burly arms wound tightly around her shoulders after Dean had pulled back to wet his whistle with more booze; “You wanna really let loose and scream about it? Here, this might help.”

Reaching under the bartop, Wayne pulled out a large, chunky green folder emblezzened with the bar's logo _“Finnegan's Ale House”_ and flicked through the pages momentarily before landing on a specfic set of laminated pages and placing it down in front of her.

“We're startin' up some kareoke in about ten minutes and we have a hefty variety of songs including a lot of angrier heavy metal ones. I know whenever I feel like shit I tend to scream along with Jonathan Davis at times in the comforts of my bedroom. Try it. It might help.”

“Oh, wow! That's actually a kickass idea, Wayne! Cheers for the suggestion.” Evie hiccoughed, her mood instantly perking at his kindness as she daubed away her smudged eye make-up with a napkin.

Pulling the playlist towards her, she peered down at the selection, impressed by the wide variety of brutal metal tracks that greeted her and after a few moments purusing them whilst sipping on her drink, she nodded and turned towards the stage, watching as a large projector screen rolled down from a hidden gap in the ceiling over the stage.

“You guys up for some fun?” Evie queried, glancing between them.

Sam knocked back the last dregs of his upteenth Budweizer and glanced at the file full of song choices. “Sure, gimme a bit to select a song and I'll get up on stage with you, Evie. Kareoke's a lot of fun and I haven't done it in a long while. I do get stage fright but hey, you sorely need this so I'm not gonna complain.”

“God, you're so amazing, Sammy. Keep being awesome and I might just give up on composing myself and take you to bed!”

Sam choked on his drink and blushed furiously, whistling low.

“Evie, damnit! I like you a whole lot even though we don't know each other all that well and whilst you've told me a lot about yourself today including some pretty heavy shit, I'm sorry but it a'int gonna happen tonight.”

Evie frowned at this and folded her arms.

“Figured my run of good luck would run out by now. Oh well, can't blame a girl for tryin'. Sure I can't tempt you? You seem like you'd be a particularly tender lover...”

“I-I'm alright, Everyln. Immensely flattered but it's in your best interests that we don't rush things. I...I'm not giving you a hard No but just... don't force things like you did with Dean and Castiel earlier.” Sam smirked at the memory and glanced between his brother and the angel, who were distracted watching the stagehands set up for the kareoke.

“That was fucking hilarious! Thanks for the blackmail material, by the way.”

“Anytime, Moose!” She reached out and mussed his hair, trying hard not to swoon at just how incredibly soft and silky it felt as the brown locks slipped through her fingers. She made a note to ask him about his shampooing routine at a later date before swiveling around in her chair to look at Wayne.

She took in his broad shoulders and muscular chest clad in a tight green polo shirt, watching his strong hands wash a few glasses and her mind began to drift into perverse territory as she began to fantasize at just exactly what those fingers of his could do to scratch a nuisence itch inside of her mini-skirt.

 _I really should've bought myself some sexy underwear..._ she cursed to herself but fixed on a flirty smile as she leaned over the bar and caught his attention by gently squeezing his left wrist above a fancy red Casio watch.

“Yeah, sweetie?” He said, non-plussed by the close proximity as he felt her breath gently tickle his face.

“Wayne, darlin', you doin' anything later? You seem really nice and I'd love to get to know you bet-”Evie attempted to pick him up but he appeared flustered, jerking his wrist away to fly up with his other hand in front of him, embarassment on his face.

“Oh, fuck, wow! I'm extremely flattered, Evie, but, uh, I'm happily married!” He said quickly, pointing to a chunky silver band on his left ring finger that Evie hadn't noticed before, causing her to frown.

“Ahh, shit. Oh well, sorry 'bout that, man. Thought I was in with a fair shot considerin' how incredibly warm and friendly you've been all night!”Evie murmured sheepishly, pushing her black hair from her face up behind one ear and biting her bottom lip awkwardly.

Wayne laughed and shooed her with his arms.

“Ahh, it's alright, girlie! You're not the first woman to chat me up at work and you certainly won't be the last if that Hen party down the far end of the bar is anything to go by!”

“Figured out what you're gonna sing yet, Evie?” Sam interjected and Evie could hear a subtle tone of relief to his words that was rather curious considering he had gently rejected her advances barely ten minutes ago.

Shaking her head, she finished her drink and pushed off the bar-stool.

“Gonna shriek out a Korn song that got me through the worst of things in high school. I'm not responsible for blowing your fragile young minds!”

Dean chuckled at this and turned to watch her as she made her way to the edge of the stage and signed herself up for the kareoke before his evergreen gaze was drawn to the appearence of a familiar blonde head lingering by the cigarette machine.

“Oh, shit! There's Stacy!” Dean grinned excitedly, elbowing Sam hard and making him slop half his pint over himself.

“Damnit Dean, what the hell!”

“Gimme a quick pass on the kareoke, dude. I'm gonna go over and try to score!”

Sam pursed his lips and attempted to dry himself with a handful of napkins, giving his brother a rueful glare. “Uhh, go roll around in the gutter if you want but if you guys are gonna rattle the Impala's suspension, I swear to God if you don't wipe it down after, I'm gonna throw up.”

“You're no fun, Sammy! C'mon, let's get you a girl for the night seeing as how you tapped out with Evie.” Dean said, straighting his leather jacket.

“No thanks, I'm alright with not hooking up with anyone tonight. Go. Dip your wick and have fun. _Use a condom!_ ”

He grimaced at the thought of his brother hooking up with the buxom blonde in the scandalously cut red dress but tried hard to let it go, watching as Dean practically ran across the bar to his latest potential sexual conquest and soon slipped away into a more secluded corner, nestling into a brown leather booth with Stacy and wasting no time with precluding chitchat before they were furiously making out like teenagers in heat, no care at all for who might see them.

Just then, a shrill wave of feedback from the speakers on the stage rattled the walls and made both Sam and Castiel wince as the screetch hurt their ears before it settled and a tall, attractive black woman with tight cornrows spoke into the microphone before her and began to announce the start of the kareoke.

There was to be a prize of $2000 and a month of free drinks for the best vocal performance with further monetary prizes for best duet, best ballad and funniest song choice so Sam and Castiel watched in anticipation as Evie crossed the stage and settled before the microphone, earning a polite round of encouraging applause from the large crowd that had gathered around to watch her perform.

Evie stepped forward confidently, not at all fussed by being in front of at least 500 people and she gripped the microphone, scowling.

“Howya.” She said purposefully; “Name's Evie. This first song right outta bat is dedicated to a little _bitch_ from high school who nearly killed me with cruelty but I never let her win. Hope y'all got earplugs, folks. It's gonna get loud and brutal!”

There was some murmuring in the audience before an intense sounding instrumental track began to ring out from the speakers, soon building in power as the drums kicked in with gusto.

Evie bent over, stomping her feet and furiously head-banged, gripping the microphone so hard her knuckles were strained and white before launching with a blinding white fury in her voice into the first verse.

“ _Thumbing through the pages of my fantasys! Pushing all the mercy down, down, down!_ _I wanna see you try to take a swing at me! Come on, gonna put you on the ground, ground, ground!_ ”

She sprang upright, hair flying in her face as she scrunched her eyes shut and shrilly cried the next lines, raw anger evident in her voice and Sam was blown away at just how well she was holding the tune.

 

“ _Why are you trying to make fun of meeee? You think it's funny? What the fuck you think it's doing to me?! You take your turns lashing out at me, I want you crying with your dirty ass in front of me!”_

The music got, if possible, even louder and she was practically screaming at this point, relishing the fevour of the crowd as they recieved the vocal onslaught of angry heavy metal with gusto, hundreds of arms throwing up Devil Horn signs and jumping up as a moshpit began to form.

“ _Aaaall of my hate cannot be found! I will not be drowned by your thouuuught-less scheming! Sooo you can try to tear me down, beat me to the ground, I will see-eee yoooou screaming!”_

The song continued and she sung with deep passion, throat growling out every single word of Jonathan Davis's meaningful lyrics until she got to what Sam considered to be a difficult section of gutteral screaming about her “body up against the wall”but she pulled it off fantasticly and his ears ringed as her voice rattled through his skull.

The song's intensity dipped momentarily and she held up a hand to quell the baying crowd, getting ready for the last drop of the beat before jumping about three feet in the air and landing with a thump as she launched into the last blistering verse, her strong voice rumbling the entire building until the song finally ended to a round of thunderous applause that quickly turned into a standing ovation.

Rage disappearing in an instant, Evie grinned broadly and took a comically, overly dramatic bow, saluted and raced off stage, across the bar and rejoined Sam and Castiel.

 

“Feel better?” Sam said brightly, his heart still rattling around his ribcage from all the extreme vibrations in the air, causing him to briefly worry he might have a heart-attack any second but Evie's easy smile quickly calmed him and she threw her arms around his neck, her nose nuzzling into his collarbone.

She inhaled the smell of his aftershave, a heady combination of woody musk, cinnamon, dark chocolate and smoke mingled with a light note of his sweat and she made a mental note to ask him what it was called so she could spritz it on a pillow and inhale the scent of him when she eventually slept sometime later that night.

Sam placed his hands lightly on her hips, trying not to wince at how incredibly thin they were and closed his eyes for a moment, nestling his face in her hair. It smelt like pineapples and oranges, a rich fruity smell and he found his mouth watering, briefly considering rolling back on his vow not to rush into anything sexual. The alcohol he had consumed over the hours at the bar was beginning to dull his inhibitions and he sighed to himself, still just sober enough to recodnize what was happening.

Reluctently, he pulled away from her, his heart lurching and his inner thighs aching with low-key arousal. _Fuck,_ he wanted her so badly, especially considering he'd just witnessed a powerful display of vocal prowess from her that could serve them all well for some cash money.

Castiel cleared his throat loudly, snapping them both back to reality. He smiled in a knowing way, amused by the flush of red to both their faces and smiled serenely, running a finger through the laminated pages of the playbook before him.

“I don't know the lyrics of many songs, Evie, but there is one I _do_ have a degree of confidence in singing on stage.”

Pushing away from Sam, Evie sat up once more on her barstool and glanced at where Castiel was pointing before her face split into a very wide grin.

“ _I Can't Fight This Feeling_ by Speedwagon?”

“Yes. I do so enjoy that song. I feel it gives a quite accurate and appropriate theme to my relationship with Dean, all things considered.” Castiel said plainly, not at all fussed at the pair of shocked expressions that sentence recieved.

“Uhhm, Cas, you _do_ know that song's a love ballad, right?”Sam gawked, his mouth falling open at the revelation that Castiel even thought that way about his brother. Still, given how close and tactile they'd gotten over the years, it wasn't _that_ big of a surprise to him and so, clamping a hand on the angel's back, he smiled broadly.

“Wow, so you love him as more than a friend, huh?”

Castiel nodded and took a sip of Coors. “Mmm. I am not at all one for hiding my emotions when it comes for opportunities of romance, Sam. I must say, that forced kiss we engaged in earlier was a turning point for me and whilst I have no desire to scare Dean shitless by being too forward, I would most appreciate both of your advice in how to proceed with these feelings.”

Evie bounced on the balls of her feet, blissfully gleeful at what she'd just heard and she openly told Castiel she would do everything in her power to ensure that his affections didn't go unnoticed by Dean, planning on somehow getting them alone in a room together with no escape so they could have a God-honest conversation at where things lay between them.

“Oh, man, if only my followers on Tumblr could hear this! I've written _so_ many fanfics about this pairing and gotten nowhere but now that it's confirmed on your side, Castiel, Jaysus, my heart's gonna explode with fangirlish glee!”

Castiel gave her a searching look, his baby blues wide and shining.

“You write fanfiction about us?”

“Yup. Have done for a while. I'm not very good at it in own honest opinion but I do get a fair amount of reblogs here and there.”

“I'd like to read it sometime in the future. You seem most creative-”

Evie balked, her smile dropping slightly as her face grew hot.

“Uhhhm, it's _pretty_ weird, Castiel. You sure you wanna read my stupid attempts at writing you and Dean having intense, kinky sex all over the bunker?”

The angel smirked gently. “I read all sorts, Evie, and I have experienced weirder instances of literature so your efforts would not do much to shock me, I don't think, but I understand if you're reluctant to show it. It's fine. No big deal.”

“How very dipolmatic of you, Cas.” Evie knocked back the dregs of her drink and turned to Sam, who was looking at her with bewilderment, wondering what in the world she could've possibly written that made her face crinkle into such an intense look of abject embarassment.

She cleared her throat and took Castiel by the hand, pulling him softly off the stool.

“C'mon, Angel Cakes! I'm eager to hear you sing!”

Castiel nodded and let her lead him to the stage, where they ended up locked in a spirited duet of _Can't Fight This Feeling_ , Evie watching him with every minute of the song as his gaze was locked upon an oblivious Dean in the far corner, franticly making out with Stacy in a booth, dangerously close to flouting the public decency laws as they pawed and groped at each other in the low light of the bar.

Castiel tried hard not to betray any feelings of jealously or sadness over seeing the man he loved shower his affections on another woman but it was hard to ignore the pangs of longing inside his sparrowy chest and as the song faded to an end, he was quietly dismayed to watch the pair get out of the booth and exit the bar, no doubt off for a good, hard fucking in the backseat of the Impala.

“You okay, sweetie?” Evie said over the thunderous applause that rang out around them, quickly picking up on his distress, buried under the surface behind his eyes but hard to ignore the more she looked at him.

Castiel forced a smile but there was no mirth in it, saying nothing to her as they headed back to the bar and joined Sam, who had ordered a fresh round of drinks from Wayne and was currently browsing the playbook for his first shot at the microphone.

“Everything alright?” He asked as they joined him.

“Mmmhmm. I'm fine, Sam. Whilst it's hurtful to see Dean in the arms of someone else, I'm well used to it at this point and have no desire to press the issue tonight. Let's just continue having fun and not let it spoil things. This is the first time I'm cut loose in quite some time and I have no desire to sour the mood.” said Castiel, plucking up a bottle of Coors Light and sipping dejectedly.

“Fair enough.” Sam turned to Evie, smiling broadly. “Up for another duet?”

“Sure, Sammy, what did you have in mind?”

“Do you like Pink at all? I think we have a clear shot of winning first prize if we do _Just Give Me A Reason...”_

“Oh, God yes, Sam!”Evie cooed, squeezing his forearm happily; “I fucking _love_ Pink. I mean, I'm far from gay but you bet your sweet ass that if I got first dibs on a threesome with her and Lucy Lawless, so help me, I'd be on them in a hot minute!”

Castiel quirked an eyebrow. “Xena Warrior Princess gets you going?”

Evie groaned pleasurably. “Oh my God, yes, Cas. Ever since I was 11 years old!”

“Heh, really, Evie? That's kinda funny.” Sam said, amused as he sipped another pint.

“Shut up, Sammy. It was the Ninties. _Everyone_ was gay for Xena. The sheer amount of blantant and subtle lesbianism on that show was mind-boggling and gave me a lot of strange, wonderful feelings below the belt, especially upon seeing Xena and Gabrielle take a bath together, ooff!”

Evie got up from her barstool and stretched, her bones crackling loudly before she grabbed her leather jacket off the back and pulled it on, fluffing her hair. “You hold that thought on the duet, Sammy. Just gonna nip out for some air. It's getting pretty humid in here, y'know.”

“Sure thing, but don't spend too long. Think they're gonna announce the prize winners soon.”

“Duelly noted, Sammy. Back in a bit!”

 

At that, Evie waved a quick goodbye and headed out of the bar, getting her hand stamped for re-entry by the burly, bald-headed bouncer she passed before stepping out onto the quiet dark street, surprised to see it nearly deserted save for a couple of lone women across from the bar milling around a stop sign, obviously prostitutes judging from their trashy, meth-addled appearances and she felt a shiver of fear ripple up her spin at the prospect of them finding her looking and going to attack her for her money.

She decided to slip around the corner to the car-park for safety and so, boots pounding the tarmac, she soon wound up surrounded by about a dozen cars. Parked up against the wall of the library building, the windows slightly fogged up and beaded with condensation, she spotted the Impala, shaking slightly as Dean and Stacy were so obviously, loudly fucking each other with gusto in the backseat.

Evie pursed her lips. She thought about going back to the bar but her mouth was dry from all the Rumbulion and the intense humidity and so, unsure of what to do, she leaned against a nearby red Ford Escort, careful not to bump it and set off the alarm as she folded her arms and focused her gaze on the explicit show playing out in the Impala.

No word of a lie, she relished the chance to see Dean Winchester in action, having been mildly frustrated by the relative tameness of the TV show's offerings despite being somewhat R-rated and showing after 9pm.

Squinting slightly, vision barely obscured by the condenscation of the windows, she pushed off the Ford and dropped low on her haunches, inching closer up against the door and peeking her head up just enough to get a better look at the action and prayed she wouldn't be spotted.

If they had any idea she was outside perving on them, they didn't seem to care, too lost in the wanton acts of carnality they were gleefully inflicting upon one another to pay her any heed.

Dean was sprawled out on the full length of the backseat, jeans shucked down past his hips just enough to free his sizable cock, wrapped in a blue condom, beavering away franticly in and out of a completely naked Stacy, who bounced energeticly on top of him, crushing his hands onto her painfully obvious large breast implants, her blonde curls tousled in her face and stuck to her forehead with a sheen of sweat as she cried out in esctasy at Dean wildly bucking his hips into her.

Evie felt herself throb below the waist and she held back on the urge to masterbate right there in the car park, acutely aware of her surroundings and not being much of a fan of sex in public even though Dean clearly didn't give a rat's ass.

“ _Thank you, sweet divine Jesus, God and The Holy Ghost for this bounty for the eyes!”_ Evie uttered softly under her breath as she continued to engage in the most blantant display of voyerism of her life to date, desperately wishing she had a camera phone to record the show to replay later in the privacy of the spare bedroom in the bunker where she could appreciate it in more graphic terms at a later stage.

“Ohhh, Stacy, you glorious bitch...!” Dean reared up and buried his face in her collor, his hands flying to rake his nails down her back as his breath hitched and he grew dangerously close to cumming like a freight train.

“ _Uuunngh, fuck me, Daddy! Fuck me 'til I can't stand!”_

“Guh... yes. _Yes!_ Oh, fuck, Stace, I'm gonna cum so _hard.._.!”Dean whimpered, his eyes shut tight as he rode her to sweet oblivion, the Impala quivering with every frantic movement of the two people inside.

Evie wheezed out a breath, trying not to kill her buzz with thoughts of Stacy calling him “Daddy”, a kink that never once appealed to her considering her own troubled relationship with her father and the fact she found age-play to be deeply weird and creepy in equal measure.

She watched for another five minutes and then dipped her head slightly, startled as one of Stacy's red manicured hands slapped across the window and almost revealed her to them both as a window of condescation appeared.

Dean came with such a shrill scream that Evie briefly thought he'd snapped his frenulum and was in agony but no, he was just orgasming at a fantastic strength and as Stacy also came with intense force, Evie slowly slipped away behind the Ford Escort, quick to make sure she got back to the bar without being detected, her head swimming from what she'd just watched and her pussy throbbing painfully, furiously demanding attention as she staggered back into the bar in a blissful daze just in time to see Sam get up on stage and earn a round of polite applause.

“How y'all doin' tonight, folks!” He addressed the crowd warmly and pushed his hair from his face, oblivious to Evie clammering onto the barstool next to Castiel and desperately trying not to slip off from all the wetness between her thighs threatening to gush forth onto the seat.

“I'm Sam and this next song goes out to a great girl over there by the bar!” He pointed to Evie, who froze like a deer in the headlights at this sudden turn of events.

The music kicked in, a catchy, familiar tune that Evie wasn't all that fond of considering how grossly overplayed it was when it first came out but still, she certainly wasn't going to complain as she watched Sam sing slightly off-key but eagerly giving it a fair bash, the crowd receptive and singing along with gusto at the first chorus.

“ _Hey, I just met you and this is crazy, but here's my number, so call me maybe! It's hard to look right at you baby_ _b_ _ut here's my number, so call me maybe! Hey I just met you and this is crazy_ _b_ _ut here's my number, so call me maybe! And all the other boys try to chase me,_ _  
b_ _ut here's my number, so call me maybe!”_

Evie couldn't help but smile at the not-at-all subtle attempt at serenading her with one of the worst songs she'd ever heard in her life. For a heated moment, she briefly hoped with every single fibre of her flustered body that this was a clear indiction that Sam had gone back on his trepidation from earlier and was now opening up to the notion of helping her to quell the raging wettie she was trying so deseperately hard to ignore between her thighs.

All at once, the incredible images of Dean and Stacy fresh in her mind began to replay and she groaned with barely-concealed pleasure, watching as Dean's face morphed into Sam's and she took Stacy's place atop his lap, basking in how she imagined him fucking her deep but gently in the back of the Impala.

“Hoooo...” she squeaked, her core throbbing with an agonizing intensity and she snapped her thoughts back to the here and now, embarrassed as she spotted Castiel smiling knowingly at her obvious horniness but saying nothing.

Shame washing over her, she thought for a moment about slipping into the bathroom and icing down her pussy but had no chance to do so when Sam joined her by the bar, grinning from ear to ear and unaware of how she almost came undone right there on the barstool.

“How was that? I've never serenaded anyone with a song before so it was a fun first time experience!”Sam breezed before his smile dipped slightly as he caught the tell-tale colour of bright red on Evie's face, her make-up all but gone as it had slid off her face with sweat.

“Hey, you okay, Evie? You look extremely flustered. What's the matter? Was it hot outside too?”

“ _I-I'm fine!”_ She practically yelled, turning away from him and burying herself in knocking back two more triple Rumbulions until the arousal was nicely blunted by drunkeness and she relaxed once more...

 

\--------

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand more smut. I'm still surprised at how this took a turn from moderate PG13 make-out session to explicit oral fixations during the writing process but sure, that's what reading excessive amounts of good smut fiction on Tumblr will do to you...!
> 
> Some moderate angst, mentions of female-on-male unwanted groping and general drunken idiocy. Heed thy warning!
> 
> Zoop!
> 
> -Chubbs

**CHAPTER FIVE**

As the night wore on at an easy pace with several more spirited kareoke performances ranging from the ridiculously cheesy to the sublime and emotional, Evie got steadily drunker on Rumbulion, the contents of the utterly gigantic vat of the stuff behind the bar dwindling down to almost nothing, which prompted Wayne to zip into the back momentarily and replace it with a fresh full one, tempting Evie further but instead, she decided to mix things up with a series of insanely fruity vodka cocktails heaving with colourful lumps of fruit, sparklers and crazy straws.

There was a brief interlude where Sam dragged her onstage for a heady performance of Pink's _“Just Give Me A Reason”_ which almost reduced her to a mess of drunken tears from how intense and meaningful Sam sung to her, taking her by the hand like a seasoned lover and spinning her around several times throughout the song, almost causing vomit to rise from her stomach but she held it together well enough and they wound up both landing the $2000 grand prize to rapturous applause.

As things were winding down temporarily as the stagehands set up for a late-night DJ set, Dean strutted triumphantly into the bar with Stacy at his arm, giggling to themselves and joining Sam, Castiel and a nearly completely wasted Evie at the bar as she and Sam split up the prize money into neat little bundles in front of them.

“Wow, that's a lotta money!” Stacy quipped over her third Cosmopolitan in less than twenty minutes, swaying slightly as she moved to grab a handful of bills from Evie's cut, only for the Irish woman to get irate and slap her hand away roughly.

“ _Fuck right_ off, you slut! My money! No touchy!”

“Hey, I only wanted to count it, what's your damage, leprechaun?”

Evie bristled and with her blood pumping, amped up for a brawl after drinking the bar dry of expensive, rare rum, she sprang out of her seat and smashed an empty pint glass down hard on Stacy's head, causing her to scream loudly and shield her face but Evie had a mean temper and grabbed a handful of Stacy's blonde curls hard enough to almost scalp her in the process, throwing her against a snooker table surrounded by alarmed patrons as they wound up wrestling each other on top.

“ _ **Cat fiiiight!!!**_ ” someone yelled over the ruckas and before Sam and Dean could diffuse the situation, a burly bouncer had thrown himself into the fray, breaking things up just before Evie snapped a pool cue over Stacy's back and he threw her against the wall by her throat with enough force to bruise, roaring at her to calm the fuck down or he'd call the cops.

The boys stepped in and groveled apologizing to everyone, saying they'll get Evie sobered up and return to the bar irate and embarassed, Stacy throwing a huge strop over Dean taking Evie's side over hers and so, angered and streaked with blood on her face from having a glass smashed over it, Stacy told Dean to “ _go fuck himself”_ before turning to strut out but not before throwing back a wave of venom at Evie over how she gets enough shit being a working single mother who likes to have one-night stands.

With a sigh, Dean doesn't leap to pursue her at the door and so, spends the rest of the night ruefully glaring between his beer and Evie, lamenting the loss of some Grade A pussy before taking to picking lumps of glass out of her left arm and hair, giving her a blisteringly stern warning to calm the fuck down and drink some goddamn coffee.

It had been hours since they all last ate anything substantial and so, summoning a tired out Wayne, they all ordered a number of greasy but delicious bar foods from the 24 hour kitchen to try and soak up the ocean of alcohol they'd all consumed.

Castiel healed up the worst of Evie's scant injuries, remaining otherwise quiet and subdued for the rest of the night, particularly around Dean as he silently stewed with a mild degree of jealously over his tryst with Stacy.

After the kareoke paraphenalia was cleared away and the DJ had set up, the air filled with all manner of great music, spanning everything from the Eighties, Ninties to contempory stuff, rap athemns, a hefty smack of intense heavy metal before closing down on some classic rock statium shakers that helped return the boys to a merry atomosphere once the tension from the cat fight died down.

The last song of the night was House of Pain's _“Jump Around”_ , which Evie regarded as the Irish National Athemn and she wasted no time staggering off the bar stool to jump around like a lunatic to the rapping beat until she had to go throw up from all the exertion.

Despite a hearty meal of spicy nachos loaded with a galaxy of condiments, jalapenos and lashings of the most delightful guacamole she'd ever had in her life, she was still completely and totally wasted and Evie wound up jumping over the bar top to straight up pull Wayne to her by his tie, scaring the ever-loving bejesus out of him by ramming her tongue down his throat, desperately horny for a damn good fucking as her libido went spinning into overdrive until Sam angerily pulled her away roughly and they all stumbled out of the bar just after 4am before they got kicked out for being disorderly.

Since alcohol didn't affect him at all and he mostly drank to be social, Castiel acted as the designated driver and so, with Dean passed out in a drunken coma in his lap, the angel drove them all out of Milwakee through the early morning darkness, sighing deeply as he often took to glancing through the rear-view mirror, displeased to see a trashed Evie desperately trying to claw her way into Sam's lap and fumble with his fly demanding he fuck her with no regard for Castiel watching.

 

“ _Saaamm, please! I need you so fucking baaaad!_ ” she'd cry as she pawed at him.

Sam growled loudly and tried repeatedly to push her away, getting more and more agitated but she kept on persisting and actually managed to painfully shove her hand down his waistband and grip his cock hard enough to pinch, causing him to yell out in shock and practically throw her back against the opposite door, her back slamming into the window knob and jolting her into her senses.

“Everlyn, I _swear to fucking God_ , if you attempt to sexually assault me again, so help me I will fucking handcuff you to a tree and leave you on the side of the road to die!” he roared at her, holding back the urge to slap some sense into her.

Her expression was profoundly wounded at this and she started to drunkenly sob her eyes out in a dishivelled heap on the backseat, about a foot and half of leather between them as Sam wedged himself up against his own side and glared at her. He did feel a tangible degree of guilt upon seeing her cry hard but she really hurt him both physically and mentally and he was too angry to apologize for shoving her so hard but she needed to get it together.

The hours driving home passed in tense, uneasy silence until Castiel, sick of the atomosphere, flicked on the radio at a low volume to distract them all, the sound of _“24K Magic”_ by Bruno Mars soundtracking the last few lingering minutes on the road before they finally pulled up to the bunker just as dawn was breaking over the horizon.

Castiel turned off the engine and sat in the driver's seat for a long while, scowling into the mirror as he watched Evie shudder and shake, hyperventilating and struggling to find her breath whilst Sam reluctantly tried to help her but kept a safe distance least she start trying to grope him once more.

“Maybe you _should_ sleep with her tonight, Sam.” Castiel sighed after a few awkward minutes, rubbing his eyes; “God knows it might shut her up and sate her for a bit and give you some peace. After all, I've seen you fret over this long dry spell and you're wound incredibly tightly, Sam. You need a release from it, however cheap and tawdry it's achieved before you explode entirely. It's not healthy and I find myself worrying-”

“Cas...” Sam gritted out low so as not to alert the stricken hot mess next to him; “... _No._ I don't take advantage of vulnerable drunk chicks no matter how fucking hot they are so don't fucking push me on this. Let's get inside and dump her in bed. We'll clean up this steaming pile of garbage in the morning when the hangover ebbs. _Uuurgh,_ I need some toast and coffee...”

Before they could both speak any further, Dean let rip with a wet, syrupy fart in his sleep that fumigated the Impala and left them all choking and eyes running water so they all got out and with Sam embattled as he took to hoisting Evie over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, headed inside, down the stairs and into the guest bedroom while Castiel woke up Dean momentarily and they both took to unloading the trunk of the car of their hefty amount of purchases, some of the frozen food thawed slightly but nothing too bad.

Apparently, at some point around the time she'd branched off alone for a makeover, Evie had returned to the thrift shop to buy the Gibson in the window along with a little portable amp and Castiel smiled at the thought of eventually hearing her play, depositing the instruments neatly outside her door before wandering into the living room to watch a movie while Dean crashed out once again on the couch, his head banging with ghosts of a wicked hangover before he rolled over and fell asleep, not caring that his jeans had fallen down enough to give Castiel an eyefull of his pert ass, still red with Stacy's nail marks.

Down in the bedroom, Sam roughly deposited Evie on the bed and tried to get quickly back out of the room but she was supernaturally strong despite her tininess and grabbed his belt hard, pulling him down clumsily on top of her and trying her absolute damndest to land a proper heated kiss on his lips but no matter how hard she tried, he kept on jerking away at the last second, her lips landing everywhere except his mouth in sloppy, drunken kisses that did nothing to sway him.

“Evie, for godsakes, _please_!” Sam snapped at her, grabbing her wrists hard enough to leave light bruises but it only served to excite her further and she squealed before snapping her hands away from his grasp, grabbing the ends of her shirt like she did back in Walmart when showing him her tattoos and she reefed the fabric off hard enough to almost split a seam before tossing it at him and smacking him in the face with the material.

“Mmm, Sam. C'mere an' ride my gee with yer big mickey!” she slurred, her Irish accent even more pronounced under the haze of alcohol swimming through her body.

Sam tried so hard not to stare but it was impossible. She had a nice set of breasts despite him being able to see every single last one of her ribs, sternum and chest bones poking through her thin skin, her tits barely enough to even half-fill his massive hands and he wheezed out a pained breath, trying his best to ignore the inopportune chubby he was beginning to sport.

“Everlynnn....God almighty, you stop this _right now_!” he ekked out through gritted teeth but she ignored him and hitched her leather mini-skirt right up to her bellybutton and Sam's eyes bugged at the sight of her naked lower body, realizing with utter disbelief that she hadn't worn a single pair of underwear the entire day, her quivering pussy slick with arousal and waxed completely bare, making her look worringly under-age.

“ _Mooose_!” she rasped, one hand diving between her thighs as she started to put on a show for him to inflame his lust so much that he ran out of fucks to give and took her hard and fast on the bed with her still-boothed legs curled around his waist but it didn't work.

She keened out his name, bucking her hips against her hands as they clumsily worked her into a lather and she closed her eyes tightly, taking it all in as her free hand pinched and twisted at her left nipple, Sam's face all set to explode as he was rooted to the floor unable to wretch his eyes from the erotic show she put on.

 

 _God help him,_ he was getting so hard inside his jeans that he was hanging on tightly by the very last hair-width string of his self control and so, managing to get ahold of himself long enough to race to the bathroom, he rudely shut Evie's unholy show down quickly by dumping a bucket of icy cold water all over her and the bed, flinging the bucket down angrily by her side, causing her to emit a shrill scream of alarm as she almost had a damn heart attack from the rush of water that rained down upon her boiling hot body.

“S-Sam!” She choked out, any last tinges of arousal dying a swift death as she bolted upright and flung her arms around herself and shivered. _“What the holy fuck?!”_

“ _Go. To. Bed!”_ Sam screamed at her, almost cracking a tooth or two as he gritted out every single blasted word.

“I can't deal with this _bullshit_ anymore! Carry on fucking yourself, Evie, but leave me out of it! I'm going to bed and I'll rip your fucking head off if you try and wake me up before morning. Good night!” Sam yelled, staggering outside and slamming the door hard enough to rattle the hinges, almost tripping over the chunky guitar case nearby, which he kicked hard enough to dent the casing slightly.

Cursing grimly to himself, he stomped down the hall to the bathroom, locking the door behind him and stripped down naked before jumping into the shower and letting another piercing scream of agitation escape his cracked lips as the shower head bombarded him with an Artic spray, doing nothing to quell the raging hard-on that throbbed painfully between his legs. If anything, the sensation of icy water on his lust-flushed skin served only to ignite the feelings even more, opening up the blood vessels and rushing it to the surface.

Every inch of him tingled uncomfortably and he desperately tried not to think of her writhing on the sopping wet bed, not minding being soaked to the bone as she continued to pleasure herself drunkenly to fantasies of him and him alone.

Sam bashed a balled up fist against the tiles before him, almost breaking his hand in the process before he yelled out once more and grabbed a bottle of gentle shampoo before squirting it into his hands, washing his hair quickly before he gave up fighting and his hands wound tightly around his engorged cock, franticly tugging one out to thoughts of that godforsaken lunatic in the guest bedroom with such a rough touch that he knew despite the shampoo lube he'd be aching in the morning.

Sam cried out shrilly as he came hard enough to splatter ejaculate onto the cold green tiles, his legs knocking dangerously before he composed himself, washed the rest of his body down before reefing back the curtain and wrapping a towel around his waist before heading to his bedroom, flopping down and screaming animalisticly into a pillow on and off for an hour, his libido not dulled in the slightest before he fell into an exhausted coma.

The next morning, he woke up a little after noon, still exhausted from a turbulent sleep and aching all over despite having a fancy memory foam mattress he normally had no trouble sleeping on, and still feeling deep tension over everything that happened last night, Sam strode into the kitchen, ignoring Dean and Castiel as he grabbed a gigantic mug of the Deathwish Coffee they kept around for dire fucking emergencies and a bologna sandwich before settling into the library, his resolve focused on petulantly hitting the books in search of a way to get Evie back home before he did something they'd both regret.

 

Meanwhile, after sleeping rough and uncomfortably on wet sheets that were still damp when she eventually got up around 3pm, Evie's head felt like someone was slicing off pieces of her brain like wet cake. The full force of what just happened last night came rushing back like a tsunami of bad decisions and drunken stupidity and she blanched, grabbing the bucket by the bed and violently throwing up into it before flopping back down on the edge of the bed, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

 _Welp, what a fine mess you've gotten yourself into this time, girlie..._ she groaned deeply, running a hand through her unruly hair. Realising she was naked save for her black combat boots biting uncomfortably into her legs, she tugged them off and dressed in the grey sweats Sam had first given her along with the Slipknot shirt she'd worn last night, debating on wheter to get breakfast first or chance a shower.

Plodding blearily down into the kitchen, she said a quick hello to Dean, who was annoyingly bright eyed and bushy tailed, no worse for wear despite knocking back close to 15 pints of beer and innumerable shots of whiskey throughout the night in the bar and she almost punched him in the face were it not for the distraction of him being naked from the waist up, clad in just low-slung black plaid pyjama pants that covered his bare feet whilst he fried up some bacon.

“Damn, you're looking fresh today, Deano...” Evie grumbled, grabbing a plate of bacon and eggs he cheerily handed her, smirking broadly.

“Hey, turns out I can match you drink for drink, little Irish girly. You're slackin' on me!”

“Uuurgh, don't remind me, Dean. Where's Sam? I need to get down on my hands and knees and beg him for forgiveness for last night. I think I tried to _rape_ him!”

Dean shook his head and pointed a spatula over his shoulder. “He's in the library but I wouldn't chance my arm considering the look he had on his face when he was abusing the coffee pot. Leave him alone and let him stew for a while, Evie. It's for the best.”

She nodded ruefully, eating her breakfast in uneasy silence next to Dean, who sat down and guzzled down his own food, occasionally washing down bites with a massive bottle of blue Gatorade that he shared with her, along with two strong tablets of codiene-based painkillers to slay the throbbing in her skull.

The more the night's events replayed in her head, the more Evie grew agitated and restless as the mental images of her disgracing herself so completely in the backseat of the Impala came into sharp, ugly focus and with the food weighing heavily in her stomach, she folded her arms on the table and buried her head as she started to sob pathethicly once more.

Frowning but understanding of her plight having been filled in before Castiel left to go help Sam with his research, Dean placed a kind arm around her shoulders and comforted her quietly until she composed herself enough to get up and help him with cleaning away the breakfast mess and washing the dishes in the sink, him wetting and her drying and so they fell into an easy rythmn as the minutes ticked by in silence.

“I've been such a _fucking_ mess lately, Jesus, gross...” Evie muttered darkly as she stood on her toes to heave a stack of plates into the overhead cabinet.

“Well, you're not wrong, Evie. You damn near gave poor ol' Wayne _a freakin' heart-attack_ when you laid one on him and don't even go there with what you did to Stacy. I know she insulted you first but smashing a glass over her head, much less attacking her with a pool cue was totally uncalled for!” said Dean, shoving the cutlery into a drawer with a loud bang before he turned and stood with his arms folded over his chest, leaning against the counter top with a pained expression.

“What the _hell_ provoked that kind of extreme reaction?”

“I...she just _triggered_ me, Dean. Reminded me too much of Danielle torturing me and I fucking lost it. Red haze, Kill Bill sirens and all that shit. I didn't think, I just lost it on her and probably would've killed her if that bouncer hadn't slammed me against the wall...” Evie grimaced and rubbed her neck, which was uncomfortably tight.

Pushing off the counter, Dean closed the space between them and angled her jaw up to get a good look at her neck, his jaw flexing uncomfortably as he took in the makings of a ring of pretty brutal purple bruises beginning to colour her skin.

“That looks nasty, Evie. You alright?”

“Mmmhmm. Not the first time someone's had their hands on my throat, Dean. I _do_ enjoy a little squeezing during sex sometimes but right now, it just aches and it's reminding me far too much of what my dad used to do to me on a regular basis.”

 

He could see the tears begin to form behind her deep green eyes and he swept his calloused fingers across her jaw, placing his other hand on her opposite cheek. Without pausing to think of the implications regarding her feelings towards Sam or the fact that the door was wide open so he could hear his brother and Castiel faintly talk in the library down the hall, Dean leaned forward and captured Evie's lips in a comforting closed mouth kiss, closing his eyes softly and letting his eyelashes flutter against hers.

Evie flinched slightly, caught off guard by the tenderness and the fact it was _Dean Fucking Winchester_ kissing her but after lingering with their lips locked together, his moving slowly, searching for a reaction, she sighed softly and figured if her chances with Sam were broken beyond repair, there was no use in fighting it.

Dean was a glorious specimen of a man and beautiful both physically and personality wise.

Evie knew he'd never intentionally set out to hurt anyone but she appreciated that she needed this kind of comfort from everything that happened to her not just limited to last night and so, parting her lips slightly to let Dean delve his smooth, coffee-flavored tongue inside, she basked in the attention of one of the sweetest men she'd ever known and tossed her head back as she pulled him closer, wrapping her legs around his waist as he cupped her buttocks and lifted her effortlessly up onto the counter, his mouth slow but desperation quickly settling in as he found himself wanting some affection himself.

“Mmm... _Evie_...” Dean murmured, a low purr that rumbled in his bare chest and she shuddered pleasurably as she swept her small hands over every single taunt, rippling muscle, pausing to break from their cinch momentarily to sweep her tongue over his little Anti-Possession Sigal tattoo before snaking her hands up into his hair and crushing her mouth onto his as the same old familiar stirrings began to start up once more at the apex of her thighs.

“God, you're so good to me, Dean...”she murmured softly, licking the nape of his neck and getting a low groan of pleasure from him as he found himself grinding his hips into her, clearly erect and standing to attention like a proud solider, the firm tip lightly poking her through the thin fabric of their clothes.

Part of her was screaming to stop, to not rush into something that would royally fuck up any semblance of a chance with Sam but she ignored it and tilted her hips against him, feeling the angle change pleasurably to him grazing her clit gently as he circled his own hips, intuatively knowing exactly what she wanted.

“ _Ahh-hhaa....yeah, just like that...!_ ” she moaned out softly, mindful not to alert the others to their risky tryst in the kitchen that was growing more and more explicit as the minutes ticked by in a blissful haze with the promise of some truly hot sex hanging in the air.

“Want my fingers in you?” Dean said gruffly, pulling back to give her an intense, lustful stare as his hands dipped to the low band of her sweats.

He knew all too well how utterly wrong this was and whilst Sam was not about to make any moves on her anytime soon, he knew it would be taken as a massive betrayal to him if he ever found out but Dean shook the thoughts from his head and focused solely on pleasuring Evie.

She was _really_ hurting and a little meaningless sex between friends was one of the better ways he knew how to comfort someone but still, he couldn't shake the idea that this whole thing was about to blow up in their faces like an atomic bomb any minute now.

Evie wrapped her hands around his and pushed them down under her sweatpants, biting back a cry as he took the hint and set to work on her clit, already soaking with arousal as he made figure eight patterns with his thumb, two rough fingers stretching and scissoring inside of her as she bucked her hips against him, fingers flying to white knuckle against the edge of the counter.

“ _D-Dean...!_ ” she gasped, trying desperately to keep from screaming as the sensations built to a crescendo. She groped wildly between them, searching to give Dean some relief of his own from the huge bulge in his sweats but he pulled back slightly and swatted her hand away, pinning it hard at her side.

“We can deal with my thrills later, Sweetheart.” He kissed her neck and bit her nape gently; “This is all for you so don't fret. I'll make you feel _real good...”_

Dean stole a glance over his shoulder to the doorway, weighing up the risks before pulling away momentarily and letting her sigh at the loss of sensation before he shut the door over and padded back quickly, resuming his passionate French kisses to her mouth until she was practically begging him in a tiny voice to let her come.

“Spread your legs.” Dean commended, and she willingly complied, eyes widening as he pulled down her sweats just enough to allow good access to her pussy before he dropped to his knees and put his lips to her most sacred body parts, licking, lapping and gently nibbling at her until she started bucking wildly against him, a trickle of blood pooling on her bottom lip as she struggled to hold back a shrill estatic scream.

“ _Ohhh...ohhh fuck me hard, Dean! Don't ever stop!”_ she bit out, her fingers fisting his hair hard enough to hurt as he continued his blissful onslaught on her until, unable to stand it anymore, she bit down on a mouthful of shirt and muffled a cry as she came harder than she'd ever experienced in her life at this point in time, her legs turning to jelly as they locked against the sides of Dean's head, trapping him for dear life as she rocked with the aftershocks.

It was several sweet minutes later when, struggling to breathe, Dean scrambled out of her legs and took a deep breath. His lips were shining with her juices and he had a shit-eating grin on his face as he rested his elbows on the counter and peered up at her with pure love in his wide jade eyes, quietly waiting for Evie to catch her breath.

“D-Dean...” she gasped out, head falling back as relaxation washed over her; “That was fucking _incredible._ You have a filthy, whorish little mouth but fuck, I love it. C'mere to me you magnificent bastard...!”

She pulled him up and kissed him deeply, licking the corners of his mouth and tasting herself, feeling him churr pleasurably against him.

“Feel better, Sweetheart?” Dean breezed, nuzzling his nose against hers and relishing how her nibble fingers would caress the base of his skull.

“Mmmhmm! If nothing ever works out with Sam, I'm coming for you, Dean!”

“Sugar, you just _did!_ ”

“Shut up, ya dope.” Evie eyed the prominent bulge in the front of his sweats and pushed her hair from her face, sniffing slightly. “Want me to get you off with my mouth there? That looks a bit painful.”

“M'alright for now, Evie. Getting chicks off orally is one of my biggest kinks, if you don't know. I can deal with getting blue balled and whilst I relish the thought of giving you a _damn good fucking_ in the comfort of my bedroom away from prying eyes, I'm not gonna push you or treat you like a damn paperdoll that'll tear easily. We're both grown adults here and it's entirely up to you. I won't hold my breath but I know you really love Sam and I a'int gonna stand in the way of that.”

Evie's mood deflated slightly when he dragged her back to the here and now with thoughts of an irate Sam in the library, blindly oblivious to what just happened between her and his older brother.

The guilt washed over in a massive wave and she grimaced, casting Dean a scared expression that he instantly picked up on.

“Hey, now. C'mere, Everlyn. Don't look at me like that.” He kissed her forehead and cuddled her.

“You're still technically a free agent. We both are and if Sam gets a stick up his ass about it, he can go get fucked with a chainsaw. It doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to but I wouldn't get twisted out of shape over it, Slim.

“Yeah, I guess you're right, D. It still feels _really_ seedy, though, like I cheated on him or something-”

“Don't think like that. Like I said, you owe each other _nothing_ in terms of faithfulness or commitment so don't you dare fret. I don't want you getting all worked up and stressed to the point that you go and do something monumentally stupid. Still, I won't mention anything to Sam if you don't. Call it a secret between us and these four walls-” Dean swept a hand around to indicate the kitchen before he pushed several strands of her black hair behind her ear and dipped to kiss her chastely.

“Okay, I think I can deal with that, Dean. Just don't ever let me get that incredibly drunk ever again because I can't be held responsible for my actions if I end up drunkenly spilling the beans.”

“No problem, Sweetheart.” He helped her down off the counter and grinned when he saw her legs tremble, causing her to lean against him for support. Dean licked his bottom lip and glanced down at his crotch, still painfully hard and demanding a little action.

“So, you wanna go to my room and take this party to the next level? My dick's _really_ startin' to hurt...”He said somewhat sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head and glancing at the door, half-expecting someone to walk in and burst their little reverie.

Evie weighed up the options in her head. Her libido was simultaniously screaming yes and no to the idea of getting fucked by Dean but she couldn't ignore the feelings she had for Sam, urging her to put it off for later and go clear the air with him.

Still, she didn't relish getting into a massive verbal fight right now and so, plumping for the more amusing option, she gave Dean a smile, kissed him on the lips and took his hand, padding quietly down the hall into his bedroom, where he locked the door behind him and they wasted no time at all tearing their clothes off as they scrambled towards the bed, kissing with urgency.

The sex started out slowly, Dean taking his sweet time in showering her with all manner of intense, slow-burning foreplay ranging from a full-body massage with delicate, lingering touches that was so much better than anything the lovely Asian ladies from the beauty salon ever dared to dream of doing to some fingering that once again resulted in him diving down to eat her out with gusto, not stopping until her screams of ecstasy rattled the pictures on the wall as she came just as intensely as the first time he did it.

Then, eager to return the favour once she'd captured her breath, she sat up on her bony knees and greedily sucked him off with her mouth, his cock so large it barely fit and whilst she never had much of a gag reflex to begin with from years of throwing up after crazy nights getting utterly wasted with Barry, it was still a little awkward when he hit the back of her throat on every thrust, his hands gripping her head hard as his fingers tangled in her hair and he came with such immense force that she was momentarily suffocated by his seed, almost spilling out of her nostrils from the sheer amount of thick, creamy wad.

Dean was completely winded by that, blown away by her oral skills and they took a brief interlude, Dean putting on a sexy playlist of various music ranging from outright explicit, obnoxious rap tracks such as _How Many Licks_ by Lil' Kim, _Crazy Bitch_ by Buckcherry amongst others before they were once more tangled up in a mess of sweaty limbs and bedsheets, edging each other to another round of feverish orgasms as the music became a lot more tender whilst they spooned in each other's arms, kissing passionately to, of all things, George Micheal's _“Careless Whisper”_ , the irony not lost on them both.

When the aftershocks died down, they stared at each other for a hot minute or two before dissolving into a fit of laughter at just how inappropriately unsuitable the track was for an afternoon of meaningless but fun sex between growing friends.

 

After a while, when their heart rates steadied, they talked quietly for a bit, laughing and comisserating over swapped romantic war stories amongst other things.

Dean told her an amusing tale about how he got his first lapdance when he was around 17 during a wild summer in Calafornia with his father, long before he pulled Sam out of college which resulted in a hysterical instance of premature ejaculation to rival Jason Briggs in _Amercian Pie_ whilst Evie elaborated some more on the crappy relationship she had with Dylan, things taking a darker turn when she told him how, during one instance of sex with her ex, Dylan had completely violated her trust by pushing her hard limits, ignoring them completely for his own twisted urges and leaving her bleeding rectally, soon winding up with five stitches for her troubles and a round of stool softeners.

Dean sat up and pulled her against his chest, stroking her hair soothingly as she cringed hard at the memories and tried not to get too riled up about them.

“That... that was _rape_ , Evie.” He said after a long while of studying her face in the dim peachy light of the salt lamp on the nightstand; “He didn't respect your boundries or your hard limits by any stretch, broke your damn body and left you bloodied needing medical attention. I swear to _God_ , if I ever find myself meeting him, I won't hesitate to put a bullet between his eyes.”

“Thank you, sweetie, but I'll be alright. I absolutely _can't stand_ anything anal related but it doesn't really come up all that much these days so I'm non-plussed. Still..” She rolled onto her stomach and ran her short, pointed black nails along his jawline, amazed at how incredibly chiseled he was and continued; “...For what it's worth, after how beautifully we spent the last couple of hours rolling around in the sack, you're such a kind and tender lover that I'd be open to trying anal with you at some point if you like, Dean.”

“Wow, _really?_ That's kinda flatterin', Evie but I'm not gonna push things. Besides, you, uh, you wanna continue our little fling into something _more_? What about Sam?”

“What about him, Dean?” Evie said cooly, cleverly hiding any traces of her previous doubts on the matter but while Dean didn't know her all that long, after everything that just happened between them recently, he could easily see when she was bluffing.

“You still _do_ care about him, dont'cha? I don't want to hurt him myself but it's way too late to go back now, considering we're lying here all naked and sticky.”

“Yeah, I do realise that, Dean, sweetie, but it is what is and there's no going back now that we've just blurred the lines of our friendship in a big way. I'm not going to push the whole sexual thing with Sam if I can help it because the whole thing's fucked beyond repair after I ruined my chances last night by straight up molesting him and ignoring his protests. Fuck me, that was _so_ out of character. I'm cringing just thinkin' about it...” Evie groaned, flopping back against the fluffy foam-filled orthapedic pillow at her head and sighing up at the ceiling fan.

Feeling a wave of tension fall over the room, Dean's Adam's Apple quivered and he thought good and long about asking his next pressing question, swallowing hard. It was an uncomfortable one and he certainly didn't want to trigger her obvious Post Traumatic Stress any further than it was already affecting her, even if she was currently glowing from a round of hard fucking.

“Everlyn... I really hate to bring this up considering we had such a lovely couple of hours but... well, I only ask out of major concern and so I can work towards helping you in the best ways I know how but...” he gulped back the knot in his throat and pushed through, the words struggling to get out.

“...Did your father... did he... did he ever abuse you... _sexually_?”

Evie stared at him with sadness in her emerald eyes and bowed her head, shaking it softly.

“Only the one time when I was around four years old. It was just some fingering and it _really_ hurt but it took years for me to process what had happened as I wasn't old enough to understand back then but I quickly told my grandfather about it and happily, Slim was a police officer, retired at the time but still had plenty of active buddies on the force so he rounded up a gang of them, set a trap outside the pub one night and bet the ever loving shit out of my father.”

Dean nodded approvingly but he was still troubled.

“Good, the cunt deserved it. The deepest, darkest circle of Hell is not good enough for child molesters.”

“Mmm, but it was still pretty horrible. After he recovered from the hiding, he ramped up the abuse in a really big way and generally took it out on my mother. He...”Evie took a steadying breath, forcing back the angry tears and continued the sorry tale, her eyes shining brightly in the dim light; “...He used to _rape_ her quite brutally right from the very beginning and I only have to close my eyes to be brought back to the first time I heard her screaming and sobbing through the walls of the nursery when I was 3 years old. It's my first memory, Dean, and it's fucking grim. I'll take it to my grave... well, if I end up dying all over again anyways..”

He choked down his own rising tears of sympathy and pity and took her once again hard against his chest, holding her tightly afraid she might break, instantly regretting ever bringing it up as she shuddered slightly, holding in her own emotional reaction, her fingers stroking down his back as she nuzzled against his neck.

Dean smelt a lot different to Sam, of ocean mist, seaweed, sex and of course a healthy dose of sweat. It was nice but it wasn't the same and she shook any thoughts of Sam out of her head, reaching to capture Dean's lips in a heated, meaningful kiss to reassure him she was okay.

“I'll be alright, Dean. I'm like a rubber ball, I always spring back somehow...”

“You... you said once that your mother died five years ago. Do you want to talk about it?”

Evie scrunched her eyes shut and tried not to let a tiny choked sob escape her.

“That's a _disturbing_ story on so many fucking levels, Dean. It's still so raw and certain things trigger me and send me into a wave of panic attacks over it. I will say this: the episode where Charlie Bradbury died? I had such a profound sense of horror over watching her being found dead in a bathtub full of blood that I wound up taking an overdose to block out the visuals. My grandmother found me in time and I wound up in hospital for the first time for it.”

“ _Oh sweet Jesus_ , Evie!” He squeezed her tightly and rocked her against him; “Evie, Sweetheart, I'm so, so profoundly sorry you went through that.”

“Y-yeah.” She let out a shakey breath and smiled mirthlessly; “Promise me you'll never ever subject me to the Journey song _Don't Stop Believin',_ Dean. It was playing on a loop the night my mother was brutally murdered and everytime I hear it, I feel like screaming 'til my lungs explode and I pass out.”

“Duely noted, darlin'. I'd never do anything to intentionally distress you in any way, know that's a fuckin' promise I never intend to ever break. I'm a man of my word, even if I do go about things in a haphazard way sometimes...”

She nodded slowly and settled down into his arms intending to sleep the rest of the day away but she couldn't settle and Dean was still awake, watching her every move as she shifted uncomfortably next to him in the bed.

“You wanna get up an' take a shower or something? We should probably join Sam and Cas before they get too suspisious and burst in here on us, making things all kinds of awkward.”

“Yeah, good plan. Let's just take things one step at a time, Dean. I'm a little hungry so I'll whip something up... you want some ice cream? I think Castiel got some peanut butter flavour in Walmart that looks pretty nice...”

Evie moved to swing her legs over the side of the bed but Dean grabbed her wrist lightly, grinning flirtatiously, the breezy atomosphere returning to the room once more as he pulled her on top of him and rolled them both over, pushing her into the mattress and pressing hot but chaste kisses all along her jaw.

She let out a peeved moan but didn't object to his affections, feeling him harden once again, cock bumping gently against her bare inner thighs and primed for a third round of spirited sex but she pushed him off her gently and hastily sat on the edge of the bed with her back to him.

“ _Down, boy_! Let's not waste the entire day fucking around!”

“Boo, you whore. You're no fun!” He blew a raspberry in the crook of her neck and she squealed, smacking him lightly in the face with a pillow.

“C'mon, stud. I need to take a shower before I start smellin' like Donegal during sillage season and the others get suspiscious.”

“Mrrrgh, alright, gorgeous but we get to continue this at a later date, right? I had a helluva lotta fun and it's not just because you're a deceptively great lay. You're wonderful in every way, Evie. Don't you ever dare forget it.” Dean brushed his hands down her back and suddenly became acutely aware of the massive black sigal on her back. Like Sam, he had no idea what it meant but figured it was some kind of Enochian symbol he vaguely recalled from a long research session years ago.

“Mmm, nice. Thank you, Deanie-Beanie but quit strokin' both my back an' ego. We need to get up before the day's completely wasted. C'mon, I'll give you first dibs on the shower.”

And with that, she tugged her clothing back on and left the room for the shower but shot him a sexy come-hither look over her shoulder before she disappeared, grinning all the while and feeling hopeful that her turn of rotten luck in relationships was beginning to turn for the better.

Dean remained in the bedroom for a little while longer, cleaning away all the used condoms and rumpled bedsheets which he swiftly changed to a nice set of blue cotton ones before he tugged his pyjama bottoms back on and settled idly in the kitchen, waiting for Evie to get out of the shower.

He so desperately wanted to join her under the warm spray of water and continue their fling with gusto but giving how close to the library the bathroom was, he didn't fancy his luck chancing his arm with them emerging from the room in quick succession and so, fixing himself some Deathwish Coffee, he leaned on the counter, still baring the sweaty imprint of Evie's ass from the first round of cunnilingus and smirked to himself.

 

Things were about to get _really_ interesting...

 

\-----

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DRAMA. BETRAYAL. LOVE TRIANGLES! We got it all! Also, angst and more smut.
> 
> Enjoy!

**CHAPTER SIX**

It was nearly 8pm by the time Evie had finished her long, blisteringly hot shower, changing once more into the sweatpants and the old Led Zepplin t-shirt combo from her first night in the bunker. She quietly mused on replacing them at some point or at least putting on some laundry as they were beginning to get a bit on the musty side but had no idea what kind of facilities the bunker had on those terms so, still buzzing from all the lovely, tender, soul-soothing sex she'd been having with the divine Dean Winchester, she strolled barefoot into the library to join Sam and Castiel in their spirited but ultimately fruitless research on ways of sending her home.

Her mood instantly soured when Sam shot her a dirty look over the top of a heavy hardback on symbology but he said nothing and petulently ignored her for a whole hour until, unable to take much more of the rising tension, she roughly shoved him into the back of his chair and sat on the table in front of him, practically in his lap and glaring at him just as intensely as he did her, her fingers white knuckling the edge of the table in a bid to keep from strangling him.

“Okay, what the _fuck_ is your problem, Sammy?! I came here intending to make a groveling apology for all that happened last night and you just straight up ignore me save for gruntin' like a constipated _pig!_ ”

“Fuck _off_ , Evie-” Sam moved to get away from her but Evie's supernaturally strong hands grabbed the front of his t-shirt and she pulled him close to her face 'til the tip of his nose bumped hers and her emerald eyes burned with indignation.

“ _You listen here, Samuel William Winchester!”_ She practically screamed at him and he startled at the sound of her using his full name to address him with pure burning rage rolling off her in a tidal wave of white-hot heat.

“If we're to have _any_ chance of resolving all this fucking petty high school bullshit, you need to be straight with me. I done fucked up badly and I deserve your scorn, don't think I'm not aware but for cryin' out loud, will you please just _talk_ to me?!”

Sam scowled and pulled his shirt back, ripping a sizable hole in the front as he did so and he groaned loudly. He liked that Grumpy Cat shirt and it only riled him further as he scrapped a gigantic hand through his hair for the upteenth time that evening.

“What do you want me to say, Everlyn? You tried to fucking _rape_ me in the back of the Impala! I can't let that go so damn easily even if you can push through it! I mean, _Jesus Christ,_ I may not have known you all that long but you should've known fucking better to do something like that even if you _were_ steaming drunk! After everything you've been through yourself in life, I thought you'd be more considerate when it comes to avoiding instances of molestation-!”

Evie shot him an offended look and his Adam's Apple quivered in a hard swallow. Ouch. That touched a nerve.

“I've never been outright, _brutally_ sexually abused by my father or anyone else for that matter, Sam. Just that one time. I told Dean about it, how my grandfather stepped in and beat seven shades of shit out of the bastard so please, _don't_ make me have to tell that particularly grim story again. I've got enough bullshit to deal with what with all this-” She swept a hand over the table, groaning with scattered open books full of spells, rituals, symbols and rites Sam and Castiel had been so desperately studying in an effort to find a way home for her.

“Please, can we just move past this whole sorry business of how I ruined an otherwise amazing night at the bar? _Please_ , Sammy. I'm as cut up about it as you are and I want us to still be friends for as long as I have time left in this world.”

That seemed to satisfy Sam and he sighed, resigning himself to grudgingly apologizing but he was still irrate and it showed in his dark, furrowed brows that Evie thought made him look older than he was.

“ _Just_ friends, huh?” He said after a long minute of studying her face with his deep hazel eyes, saddness brimming behind them.

Evie gulped, feeling a huge wave of guilt rising up her throat as she realized he _did indeed_ have romantic feelings for her after all and she tried hard not to give away any expression of shame over her brief but awesome fling with his brother.

“Sam... if-if you want to pursue anything with me, I'm open to the idea but let's just play things by ear, alright? I've fucked up _so_ many shots of bliss with some really good guys in my crappy love life and I like you way too much to do it again.” Evie said purposefully, reaching out to push strands of his silky auburn hair out his face, her fingers momentarily grazing his jaw.

He needed a shave badly but she considered the deep five o' clock shadow to be pretty sexy on him and she couldn't help but smile at the thought of one day feeling it tickle her chin when they eventually got around to kissing...

 

Sam closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, turning slightly to nuzzle against her palm and kiss it softly, the tension from before gently melting away. The tiny, chaste touch of his lips against her hand sent a jolt of electricity shooting through Evie's body and she coughed roughly, embarassed to find herself getting turned on despite having about five orgasms already in the space of the last three hours so she jumped down off the table and walked into the kitchen with the intention of getting some coffee for the them both but found that Castiel had beaten her to the punch, staring bleary-eyed and tired at the perculator as steaming hot liquid bubbled within, barely noticing her pressence until she hugged him tightly from behind and kissed his ear in a friendly display of affection.

“Hello, Angel Cakes!” She said brightly, pulling away to grab a packet of S'more Pop Tarts and set up some coffee mugs for her and Sam, smirking at a gigantic one with the words “ _NOT TODAY, SATAN”_ on it whilst she poured her own coffee into a gaudy one shaped like an Infinity Gauntlet.

“How goes the research? Anything promising?” She sipped her beverage and watched as he mussed his hair further than it was, letting out a low, exhausted groan.

“Short of summoning the help of Rowena, I doubt very much we have any strong leads, Evie. I found a tracking spell that could be of some use but I doubt it'll do much other than open a window into what your family might be doing back home if you want to see...”

“Ooff, that's both tantilizing and a bit grim.” She sighed deeply, trying hard not to think of home. Chances are by now, they'd have found her body and be preparing for a funeral or something.

Taking a hard bite of a Pop Tart, she was about to shake the thoughts away before they had a chance to take root fully and pull her into the snares of darkness but Castiel caught her by the back of the shirt, pulling her back towards the counter a little rougher than his normally kind, gentle touches.

“You betrayed my trust quite deeply tonight, Everlyn.” Castiel's voice was rough but even, his deep blue eyes burning into her very soul and her stomach dropped through the floor.

Oh, _fuck. He_ _ **knew**_ _._

“H-How...?!” She squeaked out, frantically glancing between him and the open door, hoping Sam wouldn't hear them talk about her dangerous liason with Dean. The expression of abject misery in Castiel's face, barely hidden under the surface of his skin, broke her heart and she bit down on her bottom lip, fighting the urge to fling her hands to her face so she didn't have to look at him anymore.

“I overheard whilst lingering outside Dean's door intending to wake you both up and inform you about the small leads in the homing spell but obviously, you two were getting _very_ busy testing the limits of the soundproofing in this place...” He said slowly, letting go of her shirt and folding his arms against his chest.

“C-Castiel, I'm so _immensely sorry_ you had to find out this way. It just happened and I had little control over things. It was all organic and strange and wonderful and hot but I very much doubt it'll ever happen again. I patched things up with Sam before I came to get coffee and I honestly wouldn't blame you if you took revenge on me and told Sam everything I did with Dean but I'm fucking _begging you,_ please don't be evil...!”

Castiel gave her the most withering look she'd seen in her whole life up to this point but his tone was soft and understanding.

“You _wounded_ me, Everlyn. You knew _exactly_ how I felt about Dean and you still pushed ahead with sleeping with him. What were you thinking? I thought you loved Sam.”

“ _I do_!” She cried, trying hard not to scream in agitation over the whole sorry mess that was slowly developing in the kitchen. “Mind you, Dean started it by kissing me first. Can't say I blame him. He was trying to comfort me from my dispicable behavior last night after we fell out of the bar and I was _really_ hurting so I didn't fight it, Cas. I'm so sorry and I know I haven't got any time travel powers to go back and reset things but God willing, I'll do everything I possibly can to make it up to you!”

The angel didn't bother to press her any further but instead gave her a defeated shrug, glancing down the hallway and watching a bedraggled Dean with Evie's Gibson guitar slung over his bare shoulders pad into the library.

“What do you want to do, Castiel?” Evie said shakily, trying not to cry from all the salicious revelations. Despite his own pained heart lurching in his chest, Castiel gave her a mirthless smile and sipped at his own cup of strong black coffee, thinking for a moment.

“Let's just continue as if all this never happened. I still have an aching longing to pursue things with Dean but seeing as he's so ridgidly coded to be a red blooded heterosexual male, I doubt very much I have any hope in Hell of ever swaying his affections.”

“Hmmm, I dunno, Castiel. I've seen you two do some pretty fuckin' gay shit in all the time I've been watchin' this damn show.” Evie's mood was lightening but she was still fretting quietly, unable to look him directly in the eye.

“Such as?”

“Ohhh, _c'mon_ , dude! Surely you're not immune to him lookin' you up and down like he wants to pin you to the wall and fuck you into next year! All the lingering gazes, the lip-licking and biting, how he hugs you without prompting and how beautiful your overt chemistry is? He'd be a fucking idiot to turn you down and I'll promise you this, Castiel. I don't mean to pain you when I say it but he's _incredible_ in the sack. The things he can do with his mouth alone-!”

“Urgh, please don't. Spare me the explicit details of your hook up, Evie-” Castiel groaned only for any further interaction between them to be drowned out by the deafening shriek of feedback echoing down the hall from the library before Dean launched into a spirited rendition of Black Sabbath's _Paranoid_ on Evie's electric guitar, causing Sam to curse him out loudly as the study session was so rudely interupted.

Evie and Castiel came into the library, amused to see Dean standing on top of a nearby table not being used and doing his best Randy Rhode's impression as he shredded on one of the few songs he knew how to play on a guitar with a hefty degree of confidence, singing along with gusto before an irate Sam sprang out of his chair and ripped the wire out connecting the guitar to the little portable amp clipped to the top of his pyjama bottoms, almost damaging it in the process and causing Evie to emit an annoyed whine over the jerking noise of the guitar cutting out abruptly.

“Heeey!” she and Dean yelled in unison but Sam just stomped back to his place at the head of the research strewn table and petulently snapped open his laptop, glaring at the screen and rubbing his tired face with irritation.

“Can we _please_ focus already?! It's been a long-ass day and I a'int in the mood for more crazy bullshit!”

“Oh, lighten up, Samantha and go change your tampon!” Dean crouched down and sat on the table with the guitar in his lap, looking adorable to Evie and she bit her lip, trying hard not to start fantazizing about him being a big ol' rock god and her a horny groupie.

“What've we got worth lookin' into?” Dean said, snapping right into business mode as he rounded the table to Sam, peering at the laptop with deep crinkles appearing between his brows.

All manner of complicated, runic symbols were shown on the screen along with so much ancient Latin in such tiny red font on decrepit, ripped parchment that he marveled at how Sam could even read it without the need to zoom in deeply but hey, being a slave to research and complicated history was his whole shtick the whole time they'd known each other so Dean was confident he could translate things successfully.

“Tracking spell.” Sam murmured, squinting and feeling the harsh light of the screen burn into his retinas painfully, causing him to pause to push his fingers into his eyes and massage them hard.

“We should be able to get the supplies and pull it off ourselves without any outside help but it'll be difficult and has no real guarentee of being successful...”

“Will it get me home?” Evie asked, her face falling as she thought about leaving this entire universe behind to return to the dark and lonely one she had grown up in, plagued with a whole life of tragedy, trauma, self-harm, violence and all other manner of dark thoughts that threatened to overwelm her once more.

Pushing her hair out of her face, she sniffed and folded her arms.

“Any chance we could get Rowena involved? I'm a huge fan an' would love to meet her so I can pick her brain and find out where she gets all those _gorgeous_ velvet dresses-”

“Oh, _Hell no,_ Evie! You don't wanna mess with that bitch! She's a total nuisence and between her and her son, could cause potential for abject mayhem!” Sam snapped at her and Evie pouted, hands on her hips.

“Urgh, _c'mon,_ Sammy! Humor me! I _am_ a crazed fangirl after all and whilst I know you guys all have beefs with her and Crowley, don't lump me into your burning hatred of them! They're not that bad and could prove useful-!”

“No, Evie. Drop it right now or I'll spank you so hard you can't sit easy for a month.” Dean growled out, his evergreen eyes burning into her but she misconstrued the look as being overtly sexual and licked her lips, risking it by flirting back at him.

“Is that so, Deanie-Bo-Beanie?” She purred, reaching to squeeze his taunt bicep, remembering with relish how it would flex against her as he held her against him whilst they fucked earlier. “You wanna spank me? Don't you tempt me like that, you dirty fucker!”

“ _Guys!_ Can we get our heads in the game, please?!” Sam yelled, oblivious to the burning sexual tension between Evie and his brother but irate at seeing them brazenly flirt with each other, his brows furrowing into a deep scowl.

“Right, right!” Dean said, flustered and doing his best not to get an erection over the scandalous thoughts of having her bent over his lap, squirming from an onslaught of his hand raining down on her pert but bony ass or him using a ping-pong paddle to make her squeal with both pleasure and pain.

He cast her a sullen look, figuring since Sam was finally talking to her however much irritated he was sounding right now that things had been patched up between them and he sighed, resigning himself to the fact they'd probably not have any more sex any time soon.

“Any interesting cases come up yet, Sammy?” Evie asked, leaning on the table and peering into the laptop, intrigued by the Latin spell on the screen before Sam switched tabs to a news article citing five brutal, animalistic murders that took place over the last month or so in a small town five hours from the bunker called Sacksville that looked promising.

“Whoa, _that's_ pretty fuckin' weird...!” she exclaimed, straightening up and frowning.

“What is it, Evie?” Castiel asked, cocking his head.

“Five grisly murders the next town over, all with the same hallmarks of the victims being found wearing colourful animal costumes, all dying by grevious stab wounds to the ribs and stomach.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow and lay the guitar down on the table beside him, thumbing his chin.

“What're you thinking? Furries? That's _so_ gross!”

“Don't kink shame, Dean. Furries aren't that bad compared to all other manner of disgusting things people get off on. Don't get me started on scat, watersports and vomit play-”Evie started but Dean just turned as green as his eyes and blanched, shaking his head.

“ _Stop, stop!_ Alright already! I get the picture!” He grimaced and forced down the nausea before thumbing his nose and standing up from the table, hands on his hips.

“So how we gonna do this?”

“Evie...” Sam turned to her, his expression soft but concerned; “...This could be _extremely_ dangerous and I don't want you getting hurt but if you're going to stick with us for the long haul until we get the stuff together to perform the tracking spell, I'm resigned to the fact you'll be hunting with us. I've seen how you fare in a cat-fight but this is a whole other beast. Think you can handle it?”

Evie smiled at his worries and ruffled his hair.

“I'll be alright, Moose. I've learned from a _frighteningly_ young age how to walk away from some pretty brutal shit and my pain tolerence is goddamn high enough, though it was severely tested when I got my tattoos. Ooff, that fuckin' hurt... but yeah, don't sweat it. We can give it a day or two before we head out. I don't really like guns and have never fired a real one shy of Lazer Tag and the odd paintballin' weekend down in Wexford a while back but I think I could pick it up easily enough if you boys cared to give me a crash course.”

“Hmm, that can be arranged, Evie!” Dean said brightly, relishing the notion of getting up close and personal with her once more as she squeezed off a few rounds down in the shooting gallery and he licked his lips, trying not to get too excited.

He still desperately wanted her but knew it was a fruitless desire as he watched her linger near Sam, her hands tenderly reaching out to tuck brown strands of hair behind his ears and later move to massage his tired shoulders as he purred appreciatively.

Finding himself staring pitifully, Dean slapped himself lightly and coughed.

“How're you with knives? I think the dangers of you harming yourself have passed enough for me to trust you with a machete or something...”

“Eh, I used to go to LARPing events every so often with Barry and his wife Sinead, though they were mainly rubber swords used for reinactments so I dunno, could be worth a shot. As for daggers and knives, I often had to defend myself against my father, backed into a corner with little more than a steak knife for a suitable weapon. I've cut him a few times leaving some deep scars on his arms but he just never stopped coming for me right up to a week before he died...”

Evie trailed off and stared hard at the floor, feeling rage and trauma brimming behind her eyes but she pushed it back before leaning down and winding her skinny arms around Sam's shoulders, feeling him sigh gently and lean back into her touch, happier than he'd been since he'd woken up.

“Let's reconvine in the morning.” said Castiel, sipping the last of his coffee and rubbing his eyes. He wasn't normally one for getting overtly tired and rarely slept unless he was inches away from dying but right now, after everything that had transpired in the kitchen with Evie, his entire body physically ached with stress and he conceeded to it, saying a quiet goodbye before leaving the room to his bedroom and clicking the door shut.

“Is he alright? Seems a bit upset...” Dean said, peering after the stricken angel with confusion in his face.

“Yeah, he's fine, Dean. Just a really intense study session taking it's toll. C'mon. Let's hit the sack.” Sam shut off his laptop, closed the lid and stood up, taking Evie's hand gently and pulling her against his chest in a warm embrace.

“Dean can put you through your paces with gun training tomorrow but for now, I'm fit to drop so let's go to bed and talk more in the morning.” His smile turned shy and his was blushing furiously, rubbing the back of his head and failing to stifle a yawn.

“Uhmm, Evie?”

“Yes, Sammy?”

Sam glanced at his brother for a moment, earning a wistful smile and a quiet nod before he proceeded to ask her a question.

“Stay-stay with me tonight?”

Evie took a step back but didn't completely break their embrace. “Ohh, uh, wow, Sam-”

“It's okay. I know it's a bit sudden but I like having you near me. It's comforting even if you _do_ get a bit handsy sometimes...”He laughed at that and closed the gap between them, nestling his chin atop her head and breathing in the scent of his coconut shampoo in her hair.

“I..Okay, Moose. But uhh... let's skip the sexy stuff for now, okay? I'm _exhausted_ and the hangover is still kinda lingerin' a bit.” Evie lied, glancing briefly at the hardened expression on Dean's face.

She felt utterly reprensible for what was developing between her and Sam even though she and Dean had agreed not to attach any strings to their trysts but it was a hard thing to deny that there was raw emotion, attraction and chemistry between them and she wondered if they'd ever get through the time she had here without things getting more and more complicated then they'd already been.

They parted ways, Dean placing her guitar and amp near the beautiful wooden stereo system in the corner that held a dizzying assortment of dials, buttons and knobs, a CD player, record turntable and tape cassette along with MP3 capabilities before he said goodnight and plodded with a heavy heart into his bedroom, the bunker falling silent around them.

\-----------

In his own bedroom, Sam toed off his slippers and pulled his ripped Grumpy Cat t-shirt up over his head and Evie's breath hitched at the sight of his taunt, muscular chest coming into her line of sight. She couldn't help but grin- whilst Dean had the tiniest, cutest smattering of tawny chest hair that was a delight to snuggle into, Sam's chest was completely bare and smooth and she bit back a giggle thinking of him squirming as some lucky lady waxed him down, the old silly answering machine prank by Dean still rattling around her brain.

Sam sat on the edge of the bed, watching her and wondering about her thoughts.

“You alright? You don't have to stay if you don't want to, Evie...” he murmured, brows kniting with sadness at the notion of her rejecting his offer to share a bed for the night.

“It-It's fine, Samuel-”

 

He bristled slightly. “Seriously, _don't_ call me that, please. You pushed your luck yelling out my full name earlier...”

“Really?” She said, padding over the hardwood floor and sitting next to him on the bed, studying his face closely. “It's not a bad name, sweetie. My grandfather shared it with you so I have a lot of fond memories tied to it. Besides, you're not the only badass called Sam out in this messed up world.”

“Oh, ho! Do tell me!”

She flopped back against the mattress and closed her eyes for a moment, feeling it sag slightly as Sam did the same and nestled up against her before pulling a thick, foam-filled comforter in deep purple over them both.

“Well, obvious one to start with is Samuel L Jackson...” she said with a chuckle.

“Mmm. Sammy Davis Junior is also a good one. Good music.”

“Sam Smith. You know him?” Evie felt her eyes growing heavy but she wanted to continue this conversation as best as she could, not willing to risk things growing heated and sexual as they lay under the covers together but Sam was making it so _fucking_ hard being in such close proximity, his breath warm and ticklish against her ear as he slowly wound his arms around her waist and pulled her tightly against his bare chest.

“Uhh, no. What's he do?”

“He-he's a British singer who does a lovely line in soulful love songs about turbulent relationships. Also did the theme for...hmm, Qu- _Quantum of Solice_ , methinks...” said Evie, briefly hearing _The Writing On The Wall_ echo lightly inside her head and she smiled. Good song, heartfelt and deep and she reached out to plant a soft kiss on his lips, feeling him purr approvingly against him.

“Mmmm...”He gave a light cough, sensing he should continue their chat about people named Sam before things got too intense; “...Sam Elliot is a boss. Ever see _Roadhouse?_ That's one of my all-time favorite movies!”

“Ha, no! We should watch that together sometime. I mostly know him as the kind stranger from _The Big Lebowski_. I- _ohhh_...!” Evie's sentance petered out with a surprised groan as she felt Sam roll his hips against her and slowly move her so she was lying beneath his strong, tight body.

Sam was so clearly, painfully aroused, a sizable bulge in his sweatpants demanding her attention with searing urgency and she bit her bottom lip, weighing up the choices in front of her.

The last time she'd been faced with so much sexual activity in her life was one insane, crazy weekend at a matchmaking festival in Lisdonvarna when she was just sixteen, during which she lost her virginity to a handsome, nameless stranger in a tent before less than three hours later, she slept with two more men she also barely knew, risking everything without using condoms and laboring under such a thick fog of alcohol that she probably would've been kidnapped had Barry not come and found her sprawled out in a random section of the campsite half-naked and covered in mud.

Whilst Barry never once judged her-if anything, he often _encouraged_ her amourous activities at the best of time, saying life was too short and shitty to get hung up over sexual stuff-Evie felt trepidation pool in her stomach over breaking her record of being a total whore in less than 24 hours by fucking two men who were closely related to each other in quick succession but as Sam's mouth was on her, kissing slow and languidly, tongue eagerly searching for entrance, she pushed the thoughts away and surrendered herself to him.

Her hands tangled themselves in his soft brown hair and she teased his pain tolerance with a series of tugs on it ranging in strength and pressure until Sam growled and snatched her hands away, pinning them above her head with his massive, powerful hands at her wrists before quickly releasing her and trailing hot kisses all along her collorbone.

Evie was _eternally_ grateful that Dean had left no obvious marks on her skin despite the intensity of their fling and she stopped thinking about him entirely as Sam hitched her shirt up over her head and flung it to the floor, fixing his mouth on her left breast and almost taking the entire small mass of flesh into his mouth, suckling her greedily as his other hand deftly worked on her other nipple and making her cry out into the darkness as her back arched into the heated touches.

His hands then fisted in her own hair, almost painfully so but she didn't care, relishing the small instance of roughness as he ground his hips deeply against her.

“ _Saamm..._ ” she moaned out and his mouth left her breast to kiss her passionately to the point that she thought she'd gladly die of suffocation.

Sam's hands went to her waistband, lingering as he pulled back from their steamy cinch and peered into her eyes with a heated expression, silently asking consent for whatever he had in store.

“Y-Yes, Samuel-s-sorry, Sam-”

“S'okay... It's kinda _hot_ actually when you say my full name when we're about to fuck, Everlyn...” he sighed lustfully, nuzzling into her nape before momentarily reaching into his nightstand drawer for a condom which he then held between his teeth as he pulled her sweatpants off and they too joined her t-shirt in a forgotten, crumpled pile on the floor.

There wasn't much more in the way of foreplay, which surprised Evie considering how much attention Dean had lavished on her earlier but she didn't mind. Different strokes for different folks and all that jazz and she lay back against the mattress spreading her legs slightly, watching as Sam shuffled off his own sweats before he rolled on the condom, making damn sure it was on properly before he lay over her and kissed her deep and sweetly, pulling her hands up over the pillow and lacing their fingers together before he dove his cock into her in one swift, urgent movement that made her cry out into his mouth as he filled her so completly she almost came utterly undone from barely a single thrust.

He was just as large as Dean but maybe half an inch or so less lengthy but it was far from a problem and she had absolutely no complaints whatsoever as he fell into a slow, steady rythmn, eager to draw things out for as long as humanly possible for their first time together.

Evie cried out repeatedly at his gorgeous minestrations, the sex slow and tender but by no means less intense and it wasn't at all long before she could feel herself panting hard, feeling the sweet pressure build deep inside her core.

Just when she thought she was about to have a solely vaginal orgasm without a single hint of cliteral action, Sam surprised her, seemingly reading her mind as he dipped a hand down where their bodies connected and began to circle her nub with his rough thumb, gasping in time to her as the sensations heightened to a dizzying level and she crushed her mouth against his to keep from outright screaming the entire bunker down.

“ _Sam! Sam! Oh dear Go-od!_ ” She managed to let out as he paused to catch a lungful of air, thrusting into her with renewed vigor, emboldened by how she squirmed beneath him, her hips desperately bucking in time to his until he cried out her name joyously as he orgasmed hard enough to make his eardrums pop.

Evie came swiftly after that, the orgasm intense and beautiful and she dug her nails hard into his buttocks as she keened and bit his neck riding it out before, boneless and spent, she flopped back against the mattress beneath him and instantly passed out into a blissful sex coma.

Sam didn't mind one bit and after flinging the used condom into the nearby waste basket by the side of the nightstand, he scooted down just a touch and rested his head on her bird-like chest, lulled to sleep by the sound of her frantic heartbeat gradually fading down to a sleeping rythmn, deleriously happy for the first time in months to have finally found someone he could see himself falling desperately, hopelessly in love with...

 

\--------------

The next morning, after a spirited make-out session in the shower that only ended when an oblivious Dean banged on the door yelling how he desperately needed to pee, Sam and Evie parted ways reluctantly after a hearty fried breakfast.

He and Castiel headed out to the small town two hours away to stock up on rock salt, beer and other supplies for what was sure to be a long, interesting hunt, leaving Evie and Dean down in the shooting gallery faced with a dizzying array of pistols, Berettas, rounds of live ammo and even a massive sawn-off shotgun.

Not wishing for a repeat of their forbidden tryst yesterday, Evie threw herself into the gun training and whilst she'd only ever done paintballing, Lazer Tag and one or two sessions of Airsofting with Barry in her short life up to this point, her aim was quite good despite her inexperience, the paper targets nearly twelve feet away in the gallery peppered with gunshot residue, spent shells littering the floor, her and Dean almost deaf from all the loud banging combined with a thundering soundtrack of death metal that Evie had insisted on blasting through the speakers.

Dean picked up the shotgun, trying hard not to wince as the late Mitch Lucker screamed about “ _Only living once so go fucking nuts”_ reverberated inside his very skull. He cocked it, checking to see if it was loaded before he handed it to Evie.

“Stand with your legs firmly planted on the ground, Sweetheart. Grip with your toes if you need to. This one's got quite a recoil on it. Don't wanna knock you off your feet-!”He yelled over the questionable tastes in music before, irate and with a headache beginning to form, he switched it off, plunging the shooting gallery into the uneasy silence both of them had been trying so desperately to avoid all morning.

Focusing on the task at hand, Evie flicked the mussed up plaits at either side of her head, took a deep breath and aimed the sawn off at the target's head. She did as Dean instructed, widening her stance and digging her combat booted toes into the ground as best as she could before she squeezed the trigger and released a burst of buckshot into the target, hitting it accurately but the recoil was insane and she cried out in alarm as it knocked her over in a flurry of flailing limbs.

_“Waaaahh!”_

Dean was on her like a shot, catching her expertly before she hit the floor entirely.

“Told ya.” He said, pulling her against his knee in a half-crouch, his arms wound tightly around her tiny pink shorts-and-tank top clad body as she squirmed against him. “You okay?”

“Fine...” she mumured darkly, getting to her feet and brushing GSR off herself before picking up the shotgun once again and cocking it to release the spent shell.

“You're going _again_?” Dean baulked, placing his hands on her shoulders as she steadied herself for the next shot.

“Yup. How else am I gonna learn, Dean?”

“Alright but again, hold the position...” He snaked his hands down to her hips and without even realizing the implications, urged her to gently bend her waist, her buttocks bumping against his crotch as he held her steady, wincing in time with her as she squeezed off another round and her tiny body slammed into his chest once more with another powerful recoil.

She removed the second spent shell, placed the shotgun onto the counter next to the Berettas, pistols and Dean's beloved Desert Eagle, feeling her arms ache with exhertion from a long afternoon of gun training. Sniffling, she scraped a hand over her nose and let out a slight yawn.

“Gettin' bored?”Dean said, his breath hot and ticklish on her ear; “All the adrenline pumpin' here has really got me goin'-”

Evie broke their embrace with a rough shove and leaned against the wall, glaring at him. She was trying her damndest to look intimidating but Dean only grinned wider at the smudge of gunpowder across the bridge of her nose undermining her efforts. He stepped forward, licked his thumb and moved to clean it away but in a flash, Evie had grabbed his wrist hard, spun him around and pinned his arm behind his back with astonishing force as she shoved him deeply into the old white brick wall with an angry growl.

“ _You are really pushing your fuckin' luck, Winchester!”_ Her voice was low and dangerous and Dean, despite knowing how irate she was, was getting more and more turned on the longer her small fingers bit into his arm.

His breathing became erratic and strained and he scrunched his eyes shut trying to ignore his growing arousal. “E-Evie...how...how the hell did you manage to pin me so fucking _effortlessly...?!_ ”

He could practically hear her smirking as she spoke.

“After my mother served my father with divorce papers and a restraining order, I took up Krav Maga classes when I was fifteen. Got pretty fuckin' intense at times. I've grappled with guys three times as big as yourself and came out no worse for wear. Like I said before, I can walk away from a lot of brutal shit. You wanna goad me, Dean? Go ahead-” She dropped her hands to his belt and spun him around so fast he almost fell over; “...Do your _absolute worst_!”

Dean's evergreen eyes burned deeply into hers and she only smirked harder, her wicked tongue licking over her lips despite the growing sexual aggression that practically made the air between them sizzle with its' intensity.

“Gym. _Now._ ” Dean choked out, barely able to even think straight from nearly all the blood in his whole damn body rushing to one particular spot. Pushing off the wall, he grabbed Evie around the waist and hoisted her up. She let out a yell but didn't protest, instead winding her legs around him as he ran the few short steps to the dojo, eternally grateful that Sam and Castiel were out for the day.

He kicked the door closed behind him and then pinned Evie hard up against the wall, his mouth on hers once more in a series of punishing, bruising kisses. She growled and bit his lower lip hard enough to make him bleed and Dean yanked his head back, wide-eyed at her aggression before he put her down on the floor and sunk against the wrestling ring, winded by what had just happened.

“Holy...holy fuck-!”

Evie scowled at him and folded her arms over her chest. “We're playing a wicked game here, Dean. So many people are about to get caught in the crossfire and I can't ignore that fact any more.”

Dean licked the blood from his lips and reached with both hands to grab her by the waistband of her pink shorts but she stepped away just in time.

“Oh, c'mon, Evie! It's not like you and Sam hooked up or anything! I was standing _right there_ when you told him you didn't want to fuck him last night. We can still fool around-!”

“No, Dean. That's not the case at all.” Evie sighed deeply and roughy fixed her plaits before sitting down next to him. Her expression softened slightly and she leaned against him, her whole body sagging.

“Sam and I... things took a pretty explicit turn last night.”

“ _What?!”_

“It's true. He started kissing me under the covers, holding me against him. One thing lead to another and...and...”Evie dipped her head, trying her absolute damndest not to cry as her hands curled into tight fists and she banged them hard in frustration against the floor of the wrestling ring.

“I was trying _so hard_ to not get involved with him but God, he's so fucking cute and warm and intimate and-and-! _Jesus Christ Almighty!”_

Dean swallowed hard and reached to take one of her hands but she snatched it back hard and let loose with a deafening, angst-filled scream that rattled dust from the overhead rafters.

“Evie. Evie, calm down.. _.calm down.”_ He wound his arm around her shoulders in a bid to comfort her but was startled when she reacted violently, grabbing him around the throat with small but rough hands and dragged him into the centre of the arena, her eyes almost completely black from an insane, animalistic rage that had washed over her.

Dean tried to protest but she was so far gone in her raw emotional anger that he decided to roll with it, letting her punch him hard in the chest, slapping his face and clawing at his shirt for what felt like an entire hour as she strandled him with her hips until, after one last piercing scream, she collasped on top of him and sobbed as if her very heart was breaking inside her chest.

Jaw aching from the onslaught of her tiny fists, Dean gingerly sat up and held her to him, rocking her gently as she cried it out.

“What're we gonna do now?” He asked softly, licking back some of the blood in his mouth and quietly hoping she hadn't knocked a tooth loose.

“I don't know! Shit's so fucked up! _Graagh_!” Evie thumped her fist one last time against Dean's chest and rasped out a shaky breath before she pulled away to get a good, hard look at him.

Her eyes widened- Dean's hair was mussed up, he had a massive black eye forming under his left one, superficial cuts along his jaw and his bottom lip was split with clotting blood pooling in the corners. The front of his Black Sabbath shirt was ripped in several places and hitched up over his navel, revealing a tantalising hint of abs and happy trail.

“You need to make a decision soon, Everlyn.” Dean said slowly, placing his hand over hers and giving it a gentle squeeze in a bid to comfort her. “You-You can't really have both of us.”

“I-I know! God, I know...! _Shit..._ ” She forced down a fresh wave of sobs and brushed several black strands of hair from her face; “...If this world is supposed to be my own personal Heaven, God certainly has a twisted sense of humor!”

Dean kissed her forehead and ran his fingers softly down her back, tracing the outlines of her tattoo and along the ridges of her bony spine.

“Just a thought...how do you feel 'bout polyigamy?”

“What, like me being with the pair of yous?” Evie said, voice still shaky but noticably calmer.

“Yeah, something to that effect...” With some degree of effort giving how much pain he was in, Dean rose to his feet and pulled her up with him, stooping slightly to look her dead in the eyes.

“...I'm willing to share you with Sam if he's open to the idea. I'd rather have you part-time than not at all, Evie. Christ...why does everything have to be so _fucking complicated_ when it comes to my love life?”

Dean ran a hand down her bare arm, a tender touch that she shivered against and wound her hands around his waist in reply. Emboldened, he swept his hands over her back and towards the soft curve of her ass clad in the shortest pair of pink hotpants he'd seen in his life.

“Dean, you really think you could handle the idea of me being with another man, let alone your goddamn _brother_?” she asked him quietly, standing up on her toes to plant a soft, chaste kiss to the nape of his neck, her fingers sweeping over the base of his skull and up into his hair, causing him to emit a low moan.

“I'll burn that bridge when I come to it, Evie. Right now, though? I desperately want you...God, those shorts. Your ass looks _fantastic-_!”Dean bit his lip, instantly regretting it as the action broke the scab and sent a fresh surge of blood rushing into his mouth and dribbling down his chin.

At this, Evie pulled back and fished a tissue out of her pockets, daubing quietly at his mouth until the blood stopped flowing and she felt brave enough to kiss him again. Dean responded hungrily, closing his eyes as he held her against his chest, his tongue eager to taste her as it probbed against her teeth.

“D-Dean...”Evie pulled away, glancing over her shoulder at the door, expecting at any second now for Castiel or worse, Sam, to barge in and catch them in the act of being intimate.

“You want me to try an' stall them? One last fuck for the road?” He sighed, pulling his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and marvelling how it wasn't smashed from their grapple in the arena.

“I-I can't believe I'm agreeing to this but...yeah. Yeah, make the call.” Evie said softly, staring down at the steel caps of her boots and instantly hating herself for once more falling pray to temptation.

“Hey. You don't _have_ to say yes, Evie. You _can_ stop this. I'm not going to put any pressure on you-”

“ _I know what I want, Dean! Now shut the fuck up and phone it in!_ ”she snapped at him and Dean flinched slightly but did as she commanded, trying hard not to get turned on by her bossiness.

Clearing his throat roughly, Dean fixed his face into a neutral expression and dialled the number for Sam. He tried to keep his voice even so as not to betray his own inner turmoil over the fact he was outright planning to once again hook up with his own brother's girlfriend-in-the-making.

“Sammy!” Dean said, overly chirpy as he turned away and exited the arena, prompting Evie to follow him up the stairs and into the living quarters. “Oh? Yeah? Sure, that works! We're just takin' a quick break in combat trainin'...yeah, yeah...no! No, hey, it's cool, man! Go enjoy the brewery. Take all the time you need. I'll see you later.”

The phone clicked off and Dean returned it once more to his pocket, trying hard to ignore the rising guilt building deep inside his stomach. He turned to Evie and gave her a wistful smile.

“Sam and Castiel found a tiny little craft brewery with some great bar food. They'll be gone for at least another three hours, _thank fuck_!”

Before Evie had a chance to react or back out, she found herself swept up into an embrace by Dean and she wasted no time in wrapping her legs hard around his waist once more as he deftly carried her once again into his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him before he lay her down against the mattress and pulled her pink hotpants off so hard he damn nearly ripped the fabric.

“Jesus, do you _ever_ wear fucking underwear, woman?!” he groaned out at the sight of her bare skin quivering beneath him, freed from the pink fabric.

“ _Shut the hell up and get over here, Dean!_ ” She grabbed him by the front of his t-shirt and mashed their mouths together as they both scrambled out of their clothing until Evie was left only in her leather combat boots.

Whilst they both knew they had a good three hours to spend being intimate, any sense of leisure went clean out of the window along with any lingering foreplay on Dean's part as he flipped her onto her stomach and growled deep into her ear to bite the pillow before, without bothering to fumble around in the nightstand for a condom, he slammed his cock hard into her tightness and made her emit a muffled scream as his fingers dug hard enough into her hips to leave bruises, retribution for the injuries she had inflicted upon him in the gym earlier.

Their latest tryst was one of passionate desperation and whilst Dean was aching to draw it out, to let things linger for as long as possible not knowing if this would be the last time they ever fucked, he knew he had to make due with the limited time they had together.

“ _Unnggh....Ev-Evie...!_ ” He gasped, feeling the sweet tension build to dizzying heights behind his navel.

Evie was dangerously close herself but pushed his hand away from her clit and rolled onto her back before sitting up and scooting to the end of the bed before taking him hard into her mouth and swallowing every single last drop of his seed as he came with a loud cry, one hand grabbing her plaited black hair as he bucked his hips into the aftershocks.

Recovering just enough to feel his heart rate slow down, Dean dropped to his knees and once again ate her out until she came so hard he was pretty sure her orgasm could be heard three states away, her fingers locked in his hair to the point he was certain she was about to scalp him.

Eventually, they wound up lying in bed for the next hour, neither one of them wishing to address the proverbial pink elephant in the room until, the tension unbarable and the risk of being caught getting nearer and near with every blasted tick of the clock on the wall, Evie shuffled once more into her shorts and tank top and with a deeply heavy heart, she cast Dean a look of immense regret over her shoulder before she opened the door and disappeared down the hall.

“I'm such a fucking _asshole._..” Dean groaned aloud, flopping back against the pillows and feeling his head begin to pound with the onset of the worst headache of his entire life...

\---------

 


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

After a quick shower to wash away any trace of Dean from her body, a guilt-stricken Evie retired to her own bedroom for the rest of the night, physically and emotionally drained from everything that had just happened, yet sleep did not come at all easy and she wound up tossing and turning for hours under the thick cotton sheets.

Just as she was all set to sucumb to exhaustion, however, she was roused from her turbulent attempts at slumbering by the bedroom door swinging open. Sam staggered in, bleary eyed and stinking of booze and without even bothering to strip out of his clothes, he clumsily kicked off his boots before belly-flopping onto the mattress beside her, causing the bed frame to creak loudly at the unwelcome exhertion.

“ _Mellooo._ ” He mumbled drunkenly, moving to pull her into an embrace, the scruff on his chin scraping roughly against her bare shoulder as she twisted from his reach.

“You, good sir, are _drunk._ ” Evie grunted, scooting right to the opposite edge of the bed as she could possibly perch upon to get away from his overly amourous affections; “I'm _really_ not in the mood for a quick tussle, Sam, I- _Whoa!_ ”

Her sentance was cut off by Sam diving under the covers and pulling her back against him, giddy from whatever crazy amount of alcohol he had been putting away all night, and he proceeded to pepper her bare skin with sloppy, wet kisses.

“ _Goddamnit, Samuel, let go of me!_ ” She landed a hard slap to his jaw and it seemed to jolt him into some sense of sobrity as he sat back on his haunches, a wounded look on his face.

“E-Evie, what-? Sorry, I didn't mean to... _shit._ Are you _alright_?” Sam's hazel eyes scanned her naked body for any sign of injury from the intense day of combat and gun training and she cringed, curling tightly into a ball, her back to him.

His fingers brushed lightly against her hips and he paused, seeing the ghosts of angry purple bruises form against her milky pale skin visible even in the relatively low light of the lamp on the nightstand.

“Damn, what the hell did Dean do to you, baby?! Do I need to kick his ass in the mornin'?”

“I-I'm alright, Sammy. Things just got a little intense is all. He was holding back on me in the arena and I kept on goading him. No monster out there is ever going to dial down the violence just because I'm a tiny wee slip of a woman so I don't expect you or Dean to do the same even if we _are_ just practicing...” Evie murmured, closing her eyes and hating herself for all the lies that spewed forth like word vomit from her traitorous mouth.

Sam nodded and finally decided to shed his musty clothing after all, wiggling awkwardly beside her as he pulled off his jacket, flannel and t-shirt along with his jeans and boxers before reaching to yank off his socks, throwing the whole lot into a random corner and pulling her into his strong, muscular arms.

“I get that, Evie, I do...but still, I don't wanna see you get hurt if I can help it.”

“I...I'm more worried about you, Sam-”Evie licked her lips, feeling the words bubble inside her stomach, threatening to slide up her throat and destroy him completely but she held back out of sheer terror, too struck by the soft, reassuring smile he gave her in the dim light as his fingers traced lazy patterns against her stomach.

“Me? Heh, I've been hunting for _years_ , Evie. Don't you dare fret. I'll be okay.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and rubbed his eyes before yawning loudly; “Sure you're okay? Need anything? A massage or...?” Sam dropped his fingers below her waist, tantalizingly close to her forbidden parts but she gripped his wrist tightly and pushed it away roughly.

“N-No, Sam, I'm fine. Just go to sleep already, we've a long-ass drive in the morning and I'm kinda achin' all over-”

“Right, okay then...” Sam sighed, dejected at the notion of not having sex with her tonight but even so, he held out hope of getting some morning glory in a few hours so didn't push her. He kissed her sweetly on the lips and nestled his jaw into the nape of her neck, holding her so tightly Evie felt he might've been a boa constrictor in a previous life.

In the space of a few minutes, he was out cold but Evie couldn't settle no matter how hard she tried. Feeling him wrapped around her was just too much to bare and despite her best efforts, she started to cry, silently at first until the tears turned into sobs of pure frustration and agitation and she was shuddering in his embrace.

Sometime around dawn, her anguished cries had woken up Sam and he blinked slowly before, alarmed, he turned her to face him, concern in his eyes.

“Evie. Evie, darlin', why are you crying?” His large hands reached out to brush away her tears but she just flinched and tried to scoot away, curling into the fetal position and clutching her stomach.

“ _S-Sam...! Sam, I, I!_ ” She was practically inconsolable at this point and it only stressed Sam even more. Sitting upright, he flicked on the nightstand lamp and gently peeled away the covers to get a good look at her.

Sure enough, Evie was completely oblivious to it but it was unmistakable- there was a small puddle of blood forming on the mattress between her legs and his heart gave a sympathetic lurch. Sam placed his fingers soothingly on the small of her back, massaging her firmly in a bid to ease the intense discomfort that racked her tiny body but it was no use- the pain she felt right now transcended the physical. It was a deep, intense burning agony in her heart, the likes of which she hadn't felt since the night she'd killed herself and as she turned and buried her face in Sam's chest, the urge to scream it all out was ever-present.

“Easy...shhh. It's alright. C'mon, where did ya put those feminine hygiene supplies Dean bought you?” Sam asked gently, kissing her hair and continuing his massaging of her back.

“ _Huhweh_?”

“Darlin', you just got your period. You're dyin' of cramps.”

Sensing the damp spot between her legs, Evie glanced down and jumped before flopping back against the pillow and groaning loudly.

“Uggh, nooo! _Fuuuck,_ I'm after ruinin' the sheets-!”

“Don't worry about it, baby. Just a little bit of blood. It'll wash right out. C'mon, I'll get you some painkillers and a heatin' pad. Maybe even whip up some hot chocolate. Stay right there-”Sam swung his legs over his side of the bed and stood up, rooting around for his boxers and t-shirt before pulling them both on and heading into the kitchen.

“Oh, sure! I'll just lie here in a puddle of my own _blood_ , why don't I?!” Evie called out behind him, irate as she tuned into the immense physical pain that rippled throughout her whole lower torso.

 _Well, at least I've got a good excuse to burst into tears every five seconds..._ she thought darkly to herself, gingerly swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and getting up slowly only for her legs to buckle under her as another wave of intense cramps ripped the breath from her lungs and nearly knocked her back onto the blood-stained bed.

“ _Wuhh...!_ ”She gritted her teeth and bent double on the edge of the bed, fingers fisting in the sheets as she rode out the tsunami of pain deep inside her core. It was unlike any menstural cramps she'd ever had in her life up to this point and she sighed deeply, accepting the fact it was more than likely some form of divine retribution for her dispicible, whorish behavior over the last couple of days.

“Evie?”

She looked up at the sound of Sam returning, arms full of packets of tampons, pads and several colourful pairs of full-cut Granny Panty-style underwear for her to use that he must have picked up sometime whilst out with Castiel last night.

He sat down next to her and rubbed her back soothingly, pressing sweet kisses to her temple.

“Are they usually this bad?” Sam asked her, pulling a Deep Heat patch from the box in his arms and wasting no time in peeling off the casing, sticking it expertly on the small of her back.

“N-Not really...but God, they're kickin' my ass today-!”

As the heat kicked in, Evie exhaled a shaky breath as the raw edges of her pain slowly smoothed out. She gave him a bleary smile and took the ball of fabric from him, settling on a simple pair of cotton purple panties that she teamed with a max-strenght pad before, the worst of the agony passing for now, she got dressed in a grey “Rammstein” t-shirt and blue jeans, tugged on her combats and joined Sam in walking into the kitchen.

Dean was hastily shoving pancakes into his mouth at the table whilst Castiel graciously fixed her and Sam a large mug of coffee each before taking up his own and studying Evie over the rim of his blue mug.

“You're in physical agony. I can see the red glow of your aura.” His tone was business-like but his gaze intense, almost burning into her and Evie swallowed, shuffling her feet awkwardly.

“C-Cas...I'm fine. It's nothing major...”she waved a hand dimissively but Castiel set his mug down and crossed the kitchen to her, placing one large hand over her torso with a featherlite touch.

“I can cure you for the day but you'll continue to menstruate for as long as you usually do and the pain will return tomorrow. I'm sorry but giving that I was there when Eve commited the original sin against mankind in the Garden of Eden, you are to be forever burdened with the pain of being a woman-”

“ _Oh my God, Castiel!_ Annouce it to everyone, for fucksake!” Evie yelled, slapping him upside the head as her face burned with indignity.

Dean nearly choked on his pancakes, trying hard not to laugh at her obvious embarassment but the glare she shot him could've melted the concrete walls of the bunker so he simply swallowed his food and took a mouthful of coffee, not trusting himself to speak any further.

Castiel's hand was warm against her torso and as a soft blue glow began to emit from his fingers, Evie was almost winded by the sudden sensation of a gentle chill washing over her, blasting away any lingering remnants of the pain within her uterus until, as the angel dropped his hand to his side, she stood shaking slightly from the absense of discomfort, replaced with a pleasent sensation that was almost identical to a post-orgasmic afterglow.

“Ohh, that's _lovely-!_ ”Evie gasped out and her previous humiliation forgotten, she gave Castiel a grateful peck on the lips.

He nodded gently. “That should hold you off for the rest of the day, Everlyn. Let's move out. It's five hours to Sackville so if we get on the road now, we should be able to dive straight into the case as soon as we arrive.”

Evie nodded and glanced between the angel and two Winchesters, unconsiously chewing her lip.

“You think I can handle it? What _are_ we up against anyways?”

“I've got some ideas. Could be a witch, a vampire or just a plain ol' garden variety maniac with a knife and a vendetta against furries. Won't know 'til we get there, Sweetheart. C'mon. Go pack a bag and meet me in the garage. Could be a long one so bring enough clothes for at least three days.” Dean said, getting out of his seat and crossing the kitchen into the hallway, his strong shoulder brushing against her as he passed.

She watched his form disappear around a corner and her heart gave a dull lurch inside her chest, the guilt and shame threatening to once more overwelm her. Mercifully, she didn't have a chance to give into it as Sam stepped into her line of sight, completely oblivious to her turbulent thoughts concerning his brother.

“You look perky!” She said, trying to keep her voice light as she gazed at him. Sam's hazel eyes shined with delight and he appeared to be holding something behind his back for her, practically bouncing on his heels like an exicted kid at Christmas.

“Yeah, I-uh-meant to give you these the other night but we were arguing and um...heh. Here.”He drew his hands out and deposited into hers a hefty black leather wallet which, upon opening it, contained a shiny, convincing FBI badge along with a standard ID, two fraudulent Mastercards and about $500 in multiple bills, followed by a sleek black Samsung Galaxy 8.

“ _Wow, Sam_! You've really outdone yourself! How can I ever repay you?” Evie gasped, manuvoring herself somewhat awkwardly to pull him into a one-armed hug and placing a kiss to his cheek which he swiftly turned into and deepened.

“Oh, I have a few things in mind!” He purred low into her ear and Evie frowned, giving his chest a light slap.

“ _Period sex_? Don't be disgusting, Sam!” She whispered back, hoping Castiel wouldn't hear.

Sam chuckled breezily and stroked his fingers along her jawline.

“Honey, I'm a hunter. I've seen a helluva lot worse. It's gonna take a whole lot more than a lil' blood to turn my stomach!”

“Not happening, Sam!” Evie pushed away from him and walked into her bedroom, hellbent on distracting herself by pulling a large duffle bag from the closet and proceeding to pack up as much as she could for the long journey ahead.

Just as she was all set to pull on her leather biker jacket and sling the duffel over her shoulder, her green eyes fell upon a crumbled up ball of pink fabric in the corner. She bent slightly to pick up the pair of JUICY hot-pants, the incriminating clothing she'd worn during her latest tryst with Dean and she sighed angrily as she saw that one of the seams was torn almost irrepairably after the man in question had so passionately ripped them off her body the other night.

With unnecessary force, Evie flung them into the waste basket by the bed and groaned.

She knew she would have to talk to Dean _and_ Sam about where their entire futures lay but for now, the need to get on the road grew pressing and not wishing to cause anymore delays, she stomped out of the bedroom and slammed the door behind her before meeting the boys in the Impala, trepidation in her stomach over what this first hunt might bring...

\----------

“How you doin', Sweetheart?” Dean asked kindly as he took her duffle and flung it into the trunk along with everyone else's bags, his evergreen eyes raking over Evie's form.

“I had a rough night...not just from the women's problems, Dean.”she said quietly, ever mindful that Sam was in the backseat fiddling with a Gameboy; “You and I need to have a God-honest talk at some point before everything blows up in our faces like Megaton.”

“I know... _I know,_ Evie. We'll do it soon, okay? Let's just get this mission over with.” Dean said with a sigh before he got into the driver's seat next to Castiel, Evie clammering into the back next to Sam and once again, they were back on the road.

Just as before, the drive passed with the usual elements- Dean had thrown on some of the many tapes he'd picked up in the thrift store and so before they knew it, nearly five hours passed in a haze of Rolling Stones, Metallica, REO Speedwagon and various other artists, Dean content to bop his head, sing loudly and air-drum against the wheel as he drove while Castiel watched from over the top of the front seat as Evie, with her legs on his lap, engaged in a spirited round of Pokemon battles with Sam.

“Ohh, _motherfucker!_ Where'd you get a freakin' Mewtwo?!” Evie cried out in alarm, bashing the buttons on one of Castiel's Gameboy Colours as Sam gave an evil cackle, his own fingers moving on the other nimbly to rock Evie's team of Vaporeon, Flareon and Pikachu with a series of Psychic Blasts until she was down to her last team member and about five hit points left.

“You seem to be really enjoying those games.” Castiel said, curiousity in his blue eyes as he watched the pair curse and giggle in the backseat, Evie trying to sway Sam's actions by attempting to swat the Gameboy from his grip and getting nowhere fast.

“Waaah, not my poor Pikachu! Damnit, Sam! You're good at this!” Evie cried as the tinny sounds of the Game Over fanfare rang out through the car and her last Pokemon fainted, leaving Sam as the victor for the third time in a row.

The younger Winchester whooped in triumph and handing the console back to Castiel, he grinned widely as he cuddled Evie close in his lap, taking his prize in a series of deep kisses that grew more and more urgent, pushing what could be considered acceptable in the backseat of the Impala with Castiel and Dean mere inches away.

“S-Sam...!”Evie breathed out inbetween his spirited attempts to stick his tongue down her throat, his large hands dangerously close to sneaking up under her t-shirt. “Dude, your brother and Cas are _right there!_ ”She hastily slapped his hands back and scrambled off Sam's lap to a low whine from him, acutely aware of the pair of evergreen eyes studying the scene intently from the rearview mirror.

“How much longer to the hotel?” Sam's voice was raspy, heavy with lust as his hand rested on Evie's knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. He was getting impatient for some privacy and even though he knew things could get messy what with the fact she was currently on her period, he didn't give a damn-he just _wanted_ her so hard.

Dean scowled into the mirror, pushing back the urge to punch his younger brother for being both insistant and for daring to shower Evie with affection right in front of him. The jealousy had been steadily bubbling under the surface for the majority of the car ride as he had to endure listening to Sam and Evie laugh it up in the backseat and Dean was desperate to ignore it, trying so hard to distract himself with singing along to the mixtapes and focusing on the road.

Sensing Dean's unease, Castiel directed his attention back to the road with a finger pointing at the view in the windscreen.

“We're reaching the city limits. Hmm...there appears to be a parade...” the angel said evenly, squinting slightly at the sight of several hundred people dressed in various shades of green outfits, feather boas, jaunty party hats and tons of glitter, all heading down the street as they followed a series of massive floats, traditional Irish music getting louder and louder as the Impala followed the parade route into the centre of Sackville.

“Shit, it's St. Patrick's Day already?” Sam said from the backseat, eyes widening with wonder as he watched the crowd pass by the window. He smirked and laced his fingers with Evie's, nuzzling his jaw against her neck.

“Wanna go get shit-faced again? I might actually _let_ you molest me tonight!”

“Sam, _c'mon_! Slow your roll, man! As much as I enjoy the notion of birthday sex, I'm startin' to feel a bit achey again-”Evie sighed, yanking her hand back and running it through her black hair.

Dean pulled into the parking lot of a promising-looking hotel and switched off the engine before twisting in his seat to get a good look at her, his jaw set in a hard line despite him doing his best to appear non-plussed as he forced a grin.

“Whoa, it's your birthday? _Seriously?_ St. Patrick's Day?! Damn, you're just a walkin' cliche of Irishness!”

“Shut your whore mouth, Dean Winchester, or I'll punch you in it again!”Evie snapped but Dean's smirk just widened even further and he thumbed his bottom lip, freshly healed by Castiel that morning, remembering how it bled profusely after she'd attacked him in the gym, how she tasted, the sound of her orgasming against him-

“C'mon. Let's get movin'. I need to change and I'm eager to get to huntin'.” Evie groaned, unaware of how tense Dean had gotten as his thoughts began to run away with him.

Quickly snapping out of it, he grunted and snatched the car keys out of the ignition, yanked the door open and got out, slamming it hard behind him as he all but ran into the hotel's entrance without bothering to wait for the others.

Shaking his head, Sam kissed Evie's temple and got out of the car, pulling her out gently behind him before embracing her warmly. “Happy birthday, darlin'. You sure you don't feel up to celebrating?” He said kindly as he pushed her hair behind her ears.

Evie smiled shyly and shuffled her feet. “Well, now that you mention it, a girl only turns 30 once in her life...leave it with me, Sammy. Let's just stick to the case and see how things lie.”

“Sure thing, babe.” He winked at her and rounded the car to pull out their luggage, hefting the bags into his strong arms with little effort before he, Evie and Castiel headed into the reception of the hotel just in time to see an agitated Dean in a heated arguement with the clerk.

“ _You're fucking kidding me!”_ the elder Winchester growled out, throwing his hands up in deep annoyance as the middle-aged woman at the computer regarded him with a look that suggested she'd been dead on the inside for several years at this point.

“Sir, please calm down. We have exactly one room left if you still wish to book into this place.” The woman said in the most monotone voice Evie had ever heard in her entire life.

Strolling up to the desk to see what was going on, she glanced between the desk clerk and Dean.

“Problem?”

“Everywhere's booked up.” Dean gritted through his teeth, unable to look at her due to fury; “Goddamn furry convention's in town for the weekend an' there's no more room left at the inn. _Goddamnit!_ ”

“Calm your tits, Dean. I'll handle this.”

Clearing her throat, Evie pulled out her FBI badge and flashed it before the receptionist, causing her entire demeanor to change in an instant, the colour draining from her face as Evie held a confident stance.

“Agent Christina Jericho, FBI. Forgive my college for his outburst, ma'am. He's had a long day of drivin' and is a bit on the tense side. We're here to investigate the wave of murders that have been plagin' the town for the last month. Can you provide any information you think could be useful?” Evie conducted her first official line of enquiry as a fake Fed with startling ease, putting on a soft, non-regional American accent to disguise her natural voice.

The act seemed to work as the receptionist stiffened and sighed deeply, pushing her glasses up her nose. “I only knew the first victim- local kid named Luke Coleson. Sweet guy but a little naive when it comes to romance.”

Evie nodded and reached for a complimentary hotel notepad and pen, scribbling down the details as she continued. “Oh? How do you mean? Did Coleson make any enemies in the last month?”

“Well, I hate to throw someone under the bus...” the receptionist chewed awkwardly on a pencil, considering Evie with uncertainty before she sighed and urged her closer; “...But he was seeing this crazy older woman who _really_ pushed his sanity. Last time I spoke to Luke, he told me he was actually considering moving out of Sacksville to get away from her. Chick was straight up _stalkin_ ' him!”

Evie nodded, taking everything down.

“Can you provide a name or description of the woman in question?”

“Uhh, don't know her exact name off by hand... Jenna? _Jenda_? Jennifer, maybe? I dunno... but I do recall seeing Luke and her on dates around town. She's old enough to be his damn mother! About...hmm, five foot nothin', kinda chubby, curly black hair and dresses like a hippy. Sorry I can't be any more help-”

“No, that's quite alright, ma'am.” Evie smiled and pocketed the notepad inside her leather jacket before sniffing slightly and leaned on the desk with her arms folded. “You've been _very_ helpful. Now, you're gonna do something else for me, right?”

“Sure thing, Agent Jericho. Whatever you need, I'll do my best.”

Evie tried hard not to smirk. This whole operation was even easier than she'd anticipated! Clearing her throat, she glanced between the three men in her midst, all staring at her with varying degrees of wide-eyed admiration at how successfully she was pulling things off.

“As I said before, myself and my three lovely collegues are in town to investigate things and we'll need a base of operations for the next few days. I overheard you say you only had one room left. Any wiggle room on that one?”

The receptionist sighed and shook her head, fingers flying over the keyboard.

“I'm real sorry but we're completely booked up save for the Honeymoon Suite. Aside from it being St. Patrick's Day an' all, the local convention centre's hosting this weird-ass meeting of all kind of freaks from the tri-state area over the weekend. _Furrie Fury 2018_ , I think it's called. Fuckin' perverts...urgh!”

“Can the suite comfortably fit four people?” Evie asked.

“Not quite. It'll be a bit of a squeeze but there's a pull out double sofa bed along with a deluxe queen in the back. You need me to cancel all the rose-petal and champagne crap we normally send up?”

Evie glanced at Sam and they shot each other a brief goofy grin at the thought of hamming it up in the Honeymoon Suite with all the trimmings.

“Eh, no, it's fine! What kind of facilities you got in this place? We'll need wifi, for one.”

The receptionist nodded understandingly.

“We've got super-fast 4G wifi for free throughout the hotel along with twenty-four hour room service and a fully stocked bar in that one suite alone.”She placed a small pamplet into Evie's reach.

“We also have an outdoor pool. Here's the rules and opening hours. That's about it, really. We're only a small place but we're pretty damn popular when there's major events on.”

Evie smiled and pushed away from the desk, thumbing through the black wallet to fish out a Mastercard but the receptionist stopped her with one hand up.

“No, no! Please, on the house!”

“ _Seriously?!”_

“Sure! Always happy to help out the Feds if I can. The sooner you guys catch that murderer, the sooner this town can rest easier. People are _terrified!_ ”

“Well, aren't you just a peach? We'll do all we can, ma'am. Thank you so much for your co-operation. Oh, and, uh...probably best you didn't mention to anyone we were here? Let's not spook the suspect.” said Evie with a smile as the receptionist nodded and handed her a gleaming white keycard with the number 13 stamped on it in gold.

“No problem, Agents! Enjoy your stay and good luck in crackin' the case!”

 

Unable to believe her massive dose of good fortune, Evie pulled a molified Sam by his sleeve into the elevator, followed closely by an utterly dumbstruck Dean and throughly impressed Castiel as they headed up to the third and final floor of the small hotel, all of them trying hard not to give the game away by being too exuberant at this sudden rush of good luck.

The Honeymoon Suite was at the end of the top floor and upon opening the door, the gang were met with a spacious set of rooms clad in simple white furnishings, floor-to-ceiling windows decorated with pale velvet drapes giving a perfect eagle-eyed view of the convention centre on the horizon where a large crowd of colourful characters in various animal suits had already begun to gather outside.

There was a full stocked bar in one corner which Dean took full advantage of, needing a stiff whiskey or two to settle his frayed nerves over having to watch Evie and Sam paw each other in the back of the Impala for the last five hours.

The others explored the suite for a bit. It was certainly one of the nicer ones Sam had ever been in, with a beautiful queen sized four-poster bed carved out of white oak, red rose petals scattered in a heart shaped pattern on the mattress making him smile whilst in the corner by a small mini-fridge, he spotted a ice bucket full of a mid-range champagne chilling on top.

“ _Holy shit, they have a Jacuzzi tub!_ ” Evie exclaimed from the bathroom nearby and Sam grinned, trying not to get too ahead of himself at thoughts of getting hot and steamy with her in a tub full of bubbles.

Pushing open the double doors to the bedroom, Castiel peered in at Sam, his brows furrowed.

“The convention is starting any minute now by the looks of things. Get dressed. Both of you. Myself and Dean will do the same. Meet us in fifteen minutes.”

The angel closed the doors once more, giving Sam and Evie a brief moment of privacy.

Coming out of the bathroom, Evie tugged her dufflebag onto the bed, disturbing the rose petals as she pulled a pair of black slacks, a white dress shirt and her brown trenchcoat out with some degree of difficulty before smoothing out the creases and sitting down with her back to Sam as she began to strip off.

“ _Unnngh_...this is torture.” Sam groaned out, reaching over to brush his fingers against her back as she hitched her t-shirt up, revealing her gigantic tattoo. “I hope to God this case isn't a long one. I want so badly to fuck you...!”

“Sam, focus! We're not here to have fun! Five people have died in a month. Get your head in the game!”Evie snapped, shuffling away as she pulled on the slacks and shirt in quick succession, not giving him so much as an inch for there to be any remotely sexual interaction between them.

Tugging off his own boots, Sam pouted all the while as he stripped down until, completely naked, he managed to catch her hand in his and pull it to his lips, planting a soft kiss on her wrist.

“Raincheck 'til later? _Please_?”

Evie let out a small sigh and rounded to his side of the bed, towering over him as best as she could before she chuckled softly and pulled his head against her chest, running her fingers through his hair. “Well, you certainly know how to make a girl feel wanted, Sammy. I'm still feelin' a little crappy but I'll survive. Besides...” she leaned in low and brushed her lips against his ear, relishing the feeling of him shiver against her.

“ _....I've never been fucked in a Jacuzzi before._ ”

“Unnggh, don't tell me things like that, Eviee...”Sam groaned, his large hands grasping her hips hard as he tried to pull her down for a heated kiss. It was painfully obvious to both of them how turned on he was getting but whilst Evie wanted a welcome distraction from all the turbulent thoughts rattling inside her skull, she pushed him away and went to Sam's duffle, tossing him some clothes.

“Get it together, man! We've got tons of time for the sexy stuff later but for now? Let's just get the damn job done.”

“Yes, Agent Jericho!”Sam grinned, quickly rising to get dressed in his own Federal Agent outfit until, suited and booted, he stood before Evie with a blue tie slung around his neck, his hazel eyes full of love and affection as she dutifully moved to fasten it into a smart Windsor knot.

“Hey...” He gently circled her wrists with his hands and nestled his chin on top of her head; “...With that receptionist back there? You were _incredible_. A real natural. You sure you've never taken actin' classes or somethin' 'cause that was smooth as hell!”

“Heh. It wasn't _that_ hard, Sam. I've watched a fuckton of _NCIS, CSI_ and a whole host of other cop shows. I know how to talk when it comes to interviewing someone in a police situation. Call me a nerd if you want.”

“God, Evie...!” Sam cupped her face and tilted her head up to plant a deep kiss on her that took her breath away; “... _.I love you so much_.”

She froze at that, rooted to the spot of those three simple words fluttering from his lips.

“ **S-Sam?!** ” Her voice was a tiny, high pitched squeak and she gawked at him, unable to conceal the utterly horror-stricken expression on her face.

Sensing he'd fucked up big time by dropping the “L” bomb way too soon, Sam grimaced and swept his hands to her shoulders, giving her a little shake, his brows knitted with concern.

“ _Shit_ , Evie! Sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out! I...It just slipped out-!”

 

Before they could say anything else, there was a short, sharp knock at the bedroom doors followed by Castiel, unaware of the atomic fallout hanging in the air from Sam's shock revelation, practically yelling at them to get moving before Dean drank the bar dry.

Arming herself with a standard-issue black Beretta that she stashed at her back in a concealed holster, Evie watched as the three other men checked their weapons one last time before they all left the hotel and made their way on foot down the street towards the convention centre.

She tried so hard to stop herself from reeling at Sam's hastily spoken words in the bedroom but her stomach was churning and her mind was so clouded with confusion, guilt and agitation that she was only snapped from her reverie by Dean barking at her in a rough tone.

“Jericho! Snap out of it!”

“H-huh? Oh, r-right!” Evie cleared her throat awkwardly and avoided his tense gaze.

The four of them were standing right at the top of the orderly queue of convention goers, watching as the colourful characters had their tickets scanned by a gigantic security officer with his head shaved completely bald, his jaw set in a hard, ridgid line that suggested he was not one for funny business.

“Hey, back of the line! No cutters!” the security guard growled as Sam approached him but he faltered when flashed the autoritive fake FBI badge.

“Hello, I'm Agent Wayne Johnson, this is Jericho-”Sam motioned to Evie along with Dean and Castiel; “-Agents Flair and Hogan. We're following up on a lead about the recent murders and we need to get inside to interview some people.”

The security guard closely scrutinized Sam's badge for a long moment before he sighed and rubbed his greying beard, stepping to one side and letting them all pass through the turnstyles.

“Fair enough. It was only a matter of time before the Feds got involved. Go on in but don't start any shit.”

“No problem, sir. Thanks for co-operatin'.” said Sam kindly, tucking his badge back into his pocket before he followed Dean, Castiel and Evie into the main hall only to come to a crashing halt, stunned into silence at the disarming specticle of at least a thousand or so people in a huge variety of colourful, furry animal costumes milling about the floor, which consisted of at least two dozen stalls containing everything from fairy innoculous My Little Pony merchindice, t-shirts and Funko Pops to other stalls openly selling the most explicit types of sexual paraphanlia he'd ever seen in his whole life.

A hot blush rose up from Sam's neck and he tried hard not to gaup, his eyes watering at the sight of a gigantic black spiky dragon dildo handing from a wall that could rival a stud horse.

“ _Sweet merciful Jesus...!_ ”he rasped out, winded by the sheer scoop of sexual fetishism in front of him. He jumped as he felt Evie's small hand entwine his, giving him a gentle squeeze.

“You okay there, Sammy? You're startin' to resemble a tomato!”

“I-I'm fine!” He squeaked, free hand moving to rub at his face in shock at what he was seeing; “It's just...holy shit, that's a _huge_ dick! How can anyone...?!”

“Try not to think about all the kinky stuff, Sam. C'mon. Let's split up and interview some stall owners. I'll take this one. You go over by the cupcake stand, okay, sweetie? Grab a cake yourself if you want- you look like you might faint!” Evie pointed to a more subdued stall over her shoulder where a small crowd of people in a duck, chicken and teddybear outfit respectively were hanging around a table positively groaning with all manner of brightly decorated baked goods.

“Ooh, cake! Yeah, alrighty! You go do your thing and see what you can find out. I'll be over here...”Sam mumbled sheepishly before he gave her a quick peck on the lips and all but jogged to the bakery stand, joining Dean, who had already started without him and had a ring of pink frosting smeared around his mouth as he took to interviewing the baker-a small woman in a cat girl outfit.

Rubbing her nose, Evie turned on her Federal Agent persona and moved swiftly through the large crowd in front of the sex toy stall. The owner and operator was a huge bear of a man with a closely trimmed black beard, thick glasses and a wide frame clad in a black leather apron over a simple white t-shirt and jeans, the outfit topped off with a backwards baseball hat that had points made of leather suggesting it was a Batman-themed one.

“Hey there, missy!” the stall owner said brightly as he handed a customer in a shrimp costume her change and shut the register with a loud click. “See anything you like? We've got a special offer on mystery boxes! $40 gets you $150 worth of random, sexy goodies-!”

“I'm not here to buy anything right now but thanks for the offer.” Evie flashed her badge, amazing herself at how effortlessly she'd slipped into her newest persona.

“Agent Christina Jericho, FBI. I need to ask you a few questions about the recent stabbings in the area.”

The stall owner's smile dropped in an instant and he pulled off his hat, revealing a sizable bald patch as he bowed his head low.

“Ahh, yes. Such sad, tragic business. Those poor people were some of the sweetest I've known in this business. God rest their souls.” He sniffled slightly and composed himself, resting his hat on the table before extending one massive hand.

“I'm Jack Kerns, owner of the _Frisky Kitty_ franchise. How can I help you, Agent Jericho?”

Evie shook his hand in a bid to be friendly but instantly regretted it as his vice-like grip nearly broke half her fingers. Biting back a cringe, she coughed and pocketed her badge, pulling the little hotel notepad from inside her trenchcoat and flipping to a fresh page, trying to ignore the ache in her hand.

“What can you tell me about the first victim, Luke Colson? It's my understanding he was in a turbulent relationship with an older woman-?”

“Yes, I remember him. Nice guy. Quiet but seemed to really enjoy the racoon butt-plugs a lot..” Jack swept a hand over the items in question; “He started datin' Jenny when they met at a munch about three months ago. Bitch was crazy right from the off, tried to sabatoge the birth control to trap him, that kinda trashy shit. When Luke found out, he tried to break things off but it only made her even more insane and she started stalkin' him for a while.”

“Was she ever physically violent to Luke? Maybe threatened him with a knife or a bladed weapon of some kind?” Evie scribbled onto the pad, her emerald eyes never leaving Jack's deep brown ones.

“I try not to get involved in other folk's relationship drama outside of offerin' sexual aids, missy, but I knew Luke well enough. He told me Jenny tried to stab him durin' sex a few times. Like I said- bitches be _cray_.” Jack leaned onto the table and sighed deeply, scratching his beard.

“Do you know Jenny at all? Can you provide a physical description?”

“No need, Agent. She's right over there...” Jack extended his massive, hairy arm to point to the Eastern side of the convention floor, where up against the wall of plush purple couches near the fire escape, Evie saw a woman matching the hotel clerk's description of the suspect roughly man-handle someone in a giant Simba costume, apparently in a heated arguement.

“Thank you for your time, Jack. I'll be back later, alright?” Evie nodded, scrambling to put her notepad back in her pocket and placed a hand on the Beretta at her back as she sprang into action, parting the crowd roughly.

“De-Er, Agent Flair! Get movin'! I got the suspect in sight!” She called out as she passed Sam and Dean at the bakery stand, causing them to drop their respective cupcakes and race after her, Castiel following close behind as she trailed Jenny out of the fire escape and into a grimy back alley.

 

Rounding the dumpsters, Evie stumbled across the scene just in time to see an enraged Jenny pull out a massive ceromonial dagger and shank the poor kid in the Simba costume hard in the abdomen, earning a loud scream of pain that was barely heard over the bustle of the St. Patrick's Day celebrations in the next street.

Hearing the boys join her, Evie whipped out her gun and aimed it for the deranged woman's head.

“Freeze! FBI! Put your hands on your head-!” she yelled out only for Jenny to pull her dagger out of her latest victim and round on her with a fierce shriek that sent a pulsation of red energy barrelling into Sam and Dean, pinning them to the wall near the dumpsters and causing them to gasp as the air was rapidly being choked from their lungs with the supernatural blast.

“You _insolent fools!_ All I wanted was a happy life with the man I loved but no-no, he had to be a fucking pervert! He left me high and dry and- _urrk_!”Jenny screamed, only to be knocked off her feet by Evie squeezing the trigger and shooting her in the shoulder.

This was enough to distract the witch and unpin Sam and Dean from the wall but they were both still winded, struggling for breath. Castiel raced to the stricken person in the fur suit, tending to their injuries whilst the Winchesters aimed their guns at Jenny and readied themselves for the next onslaught.

The witch sprang upright and lunged for Sam, who yelled out when they collided and toppled to the ground, Jenny's hands wrapped around his throat as she screamed like a banshee.

“Evie, now! Aim for her head!” Dean yelled, struggling against another wave of red energy as he tried his damndest to get close enough to fire off a shot himself.

Without hesitating, Evie planted her feet firmly on the ground, aimed right between Jenny's eyes and squeezed the Beretta trigger hard. The bullet ripped through the witche's skull in a cloud of blood and bone and she slumped onto Sam, dead and defeated.

The powerful spell broke and Dean doubled over, panting as he struggled to get air into his lungs.

Scrambling out from under the bloodied corpse of the witch, Sam shakily got to his feet and slowly approached Evie, who was staring wall-eyed and dumbstruck at the body, unable to fully grasp what she had just done: she had killed someone at nearly point-blank range and even though she told herself it was entirely in self-defense, she still couldn't quite grasp the notion.

“Evie. Everlyn, baby...you alright?” he gasped and Sam's voice seemed to snap her back to reality.

Feeling the Beretta weigh heavily in her hands, Evie was about to throw the smoking gun down on the ground but Sam gently pulled it from her and smiled reassuringly. He pulled her into a one-armed hug and pressed his lips to her forehead.

“Holy shit, that was _intense!_ ” Evie managed to choke out, looking at him wide-eyed.

“Yeah, it was! But you handled your first kill most admirably. That was amazing, Evie! You're a natural at this!”

Glancing over her shoulder, she watched as Dean straightened up and brushed the dirt from his suit before he pulled the witche's body with considerable effort into the nearest dumpster and out of sight, figuring it was no longer his problem. He caught Evie's gaze and whilst he cast her a smile, it didn't extend to his eyes and she _knew_.

She knew he was still tense and jealous over her growing closeness to Sam.

“Dean-”Evie started, hoping to defuse the envy that rolled off him almost as intensely as Jenny's psychic power had less than thirty seconds ago but he just shrugged and rubbed his nose, glancing over at Castiel.

“Any casualties?” he asked, all business.

Castiel stood up and pulled the latest stabbing victim to their feet. They pulled off the gigantic Simba head, revealing a small teenaged woman with sandy blonde hair in a mohawk and wide, scared blue eyes.

“The suit absorbed most of the dagger but she still has a superficial graze to the stomach. Nothing I can't heal in an instant.” said Castiel before he did just that, holding the young woman steady with his free hand on her shoulder.

“Wh-what the hell just happened?!” the young woman cried out, arms flailing wildly around her torso as the angel healed her shallow wound. She glanced wildly between her rescuers before fumbling out a flurry of grateful “thank yous”.

“C'mon, let's get going before this situation gets any worse.” Dean said gruffly before he yanked open the fire escape and disappeared into the convention once more, leaving Castiel, Sam and Evie staring after him.

“He seems unusually tense considering we just had a sucessful mission...” Sam said, confusion in his voice. Even so, he didn't dwell too long on it and instead took Evie's hand, following Castiel as he lead the way back inside with the grateful young furry who once more thanked them all before melting into the colourful crowd.

Sinking into one of the overstuffed purple velvet sofas taking up the wall, Evie ran a hand through her hair, breathing hard as the surge of adrenaline slowly steadied and her heart rate began to rest. The cushions sagged as Sam joined her and pulled her into a hug, rubbing his arms down her back and over her forearms.

“You okay, darlin'?”

“Y-Yeah. Sorry. Not every day I gun someone down...”

“C'mere to me, Evie.” Sam cupped her head in his hands and nuzzled his nose against hers, not caring for one second that they were still supposed to be undercover as Federal Agents. “Don't think about it that way. That witch would've killed all of us if you hadn't acted so heroicly. God, you're amazing, you know that? You'll make a _fantastic_ hunter working with us!”

She bit her lip at his spirited entusiasm for her fledgling hunting skills and forced a smile despite the uneasy feelings washing over her. He tilted her chin up and kissed her sweetly and she was pleasently surprised to find that he tasted like cherries.

“Let's go get some cake to go. After all, it _is_ your birthday!” Sam grinned as he pulled away.

Remembering her promise to return to Jack's stall, Evie felt her mouth twitch into a smirk.

“Well, since you put it like that...that sex stall had some neat offers on a kink-crate. I wouldn't mind if we hung around the convention for a lil' while longer...”

Sam baulked, remembering with a wince the gigantic dragon dildo that would no doubt replace the clowns in his worst nightmares.

“E-Evie! You're not seriously...?!”

“Heh, what's the worst that could happen, Moose? C'mon. Where's your sense of fun? Besides, you owe me some hot birthday sex in the Jacuzzi back at the hotel!” She sprang to her feet and took his wrist before glancing at Castiel, who was quietly surveying the crowd, squinting slightly.

“Yo, Angel Cakes? Everything good?” she asked him.

Castiel nodded and folded his arms.

“All appears calm, Evie. Unless there's anything else, I see no other reason to stay here.”

“I'm just gonna go pick up a kink crate and some cake, then we can head back to the hotel if you like.” Evie said.

“You don't wish to go find a bar to celebrate your birthday or something?” he glanced at his watch; “It's barely after 3pm. The day is still very much young.”

Evie giggled and ruffled Sam's mop of auburn hair, casting the angel in the trenchcoat a conspiritorial smile. “You'd be doing me a _major_ solid if you took Dean to the nearest bar and got started without us. Me an' Sam...we have plans. Ones that require a certain degree of privacy for a few hours, heh!"

 

Rolling his eyes so hard he almost went blind, Castiel sighed deeply but nodded in understanding, taking off into the crowd to find Dean while Sam and Evie briefly split up once more, Sam heading back to the bakery stall to find the sweetest, creamiest cake worthy of his beloved's 30th birthday whilst Evie relished handing over $60 for a deluxe kink crate, not knowing what kind of naughty delights were inside the deceptively plain black cardboard box.

Leaving Castiel and Dean to their own devices, Sam and Evie practically ran back to the hotel, flinging themselves into the elevator, their hands all over each other as they paid no mind to the other shocked hotel customers until, breathless and aching for one another, Sam slung her over his shoulder and nearly kicked in the suite door before racing to the bathroom and depositing her on the edge of the enormous white tub that looked as if it could fit up to five people comfortably.

Eager to indulge in one of her most pressing sexual fantasies to date, Evie wasted no time in turning on the water, making sure it was the perfect tempeture before Sam, who had practically ripped his own clothes off, was on her like a shot, his nimble fingers ridding her of her slacks and shirt, followed by her underwear and sensible black sneakers until, both of them naked and eager, Sam climbed into the Jacuzzi and pulled her down into his lap, failing to hide a pleasurable groan as the hot water soothed his aching muscles.

“God, this feels so _incredible_!” Evie cooed as the jets gently blasted the tension from her back as she sat nestled against Sam's chest before he reached out and cupped her head, taking her mouth hostage in an intense, steamy cinch, tongue probbing her with seering urgency.

“Mmm..!” She responded favorably, shifting so he could sweep his hands to her hips and pull her closer, brushing the tip of his throbbing erection against her core, too worked up to linger on any crazy amount of foreplay.

“Ev-Evie, please...!” Sam groaned, dipping his head to suckle greedily on her left nipple before be plunged deep into her, causing Evie to throw her head back in a desperate cry of passion, flinging her arms around his neck and brushing her fingers through his soaking wet hair as he thrust hard and fast, hitting every single sweet spot along the way and making the water in the Jacuzzi threaten to slop over the sides.

“ _S-Samuel! Yes..!_ ” Evie gasped, biting him hard on the nape of his neck as she rode him wantonly before her hands flew to the edges of the tub and she angled her hips to meet him at every thrust, the subtle change in position just enough for him to hit her g-spot whilst one of his massive hands dipped between them into the water to circle her clit and push her closer and closer to the edge.

“God, you look so _fucking good_ all slick and wet- _Ahhhh_!” Sam cried out, his free hand digging hard into her hips and reigniting the old, dying ache from her previous bruises. The brief instance of pain mixed with the rising pleasure was enough to make Evie scream out in ecstasy, tossing her head back as she came harder than she'd ever done with Sam up to this point.

“ _Saaaam!_ ”

He gasped and swept both his hands up her back, along her spine and tracing over her tattoo, his thrusts getting more and more frantic and erratic as he chased his own orgasm until, with a cry that rattled the delicate crystal lighting fixtures overhead, he came hard enough to hurt before flopping back against the edge of the tub a boneless, spent mess of a man.

Evie, finding her breath at last, shifted in his lap as he lay panting beneath her until she was stretched out between his legs, her head resting on his chest to listen to the steady hammering of his heart inside his muscular chest, his laboured breathing and the steady bubbling of the Jacuzzi jets being the only sounds in the room for what felt like an eternity.

 

“Sam...?” Evie said quietly, peering into his deep, veiled hazel eyes with her own green pair; “I...about earlier...when you said those words to me...”

“E-Evie? F-Forget about them- spur of the moment. Call it a slip o' the tongue-”Sam said, still struggling to catch his breath from the energetic sex session they'd just had, his arms curling around her.

“For what it's worth, I do...I do care deeply about you, Sam. I _could_ love you...”

“Yeah? Wh-what's stopping you?” He shifted slightly to sit up, taking a good look at her as he pushed her slick black hair behind her ears.

She bowed her head, still feeling the bruises on her hips sting from where Sam had dug his fingers into them and reignited the old ache, a painful reminder of how she'd behaved previously with his older brother.

“ _Everything,_ Sam. I don't deserve your love. I've done things I'm so ashamed of...I've fucked everything up and I just...I don't know if I can be the woman you need, you deserve. I'm sorry...” Evie moved to get out of the tub but Sam pulled her back gently with his arms around her waist.

“Hey, I know you've had a hard time of things lately, darlin'. I'd be lying if I said my own life was a bed of roses. But look, you're here now and we're together and I love every single second. Whatever happens-with the tracking spell or-or getting you back to your time, I'm not sweating things, baby. I love you so much even if it has been an insanely short amount of time. I _want_ to be with you, Everlyn. Let me in. Let me heal those scars on your heart.”

Evie sniffled as she choked back a sob, a hand flying to scrub at her eyes as she felt tears brimming.

“S-Sam...!”

“Shh, c'mere. I'll hold you as long as you need, be there for you through every step. _I love you._ ”

He held her tightly and angled his jaw for a kiss. Against all the turbulent thoughts, the guilt, misery and mental anguish that threatened to blow things sky high at any moment, Evie surrendered to the sweet touch of his lips, wishing so much she could give him what he needed without so many complications...

 

\--------

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst. All the angst. Dean being a dickbag and a brief appearance by Rowena!  
> Bit of a dark chapter but a good one IMO.
> 
> Enjoy!

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

After getting out of the Jacuzzi once the water became uncomfortably cold, Sam and Evie continued their amorous antics in the bedroom, pausing briefly to open the Kink Crate she had picked up at the furry convention. Inside was a bright blue vibrating cock-ring which Sam pounced on along with a set of fuzzy pink handcuffs, a silk blindfold, a roll of latex bondage tape, silver nipple clamps, some cherry flavored lube and, excitingly, a sleek black leather riding crop.

Despite her inital trepidation in leading Sam further down a path that was no doubt set to self-destruct any minute, Evie indulged him and after a further three hours of passionate, somewhat kinky sex in a whole variety of positions, they lay exhausted but satisfied on the bed together, each considering whether or not to call it a day and fall asleep or shlep on down to the bar to join Castiel and Dean.

“So...”Sam broke the peaceful silence, reaching to uncuff her wrists and pull off the blindfold before dipping to kiss her sweetly; “...You wanna make a quick appearence at the bar?”

“Tempting but...I'd rather stay here with you and just chill out for a while.”Evie sat up and rubbed her wrists, which ached despite the pink fur covering the majority of the metal cuffs; “...Need a break from Dean...”she blurted out before she could stop herself.

“Hmm? What's up? He's been actin' weird with you all day. Did you two have a falling out yesterday? You mentioned things got really intense during combat training...” Sam's fingers swept over her bare hips, tracing down the stark purple bruises that showed no sign of fading any time soon.

“I...Yeah, something like that, Sam...”Evie sighed, pushing her hair out of her eyes. She did not like where this conversation was going one bit and as Sam's questioning gaze seemed to burn into her, she groaned and rolled onto her stomach, contemplating her options.

She knew she couldn't stay holed up in the bedroom all day. Chances are, Castiel and Dean were expecting her and Sam to join them at some point and whilst she certainly didn't relish being faced with an overtly jealous Dean when he was _sober,_ the idea of him being irate and clouded by alcohol caused her stomach to lurch painfully.

 _Get it over with, girlie. Like rippin' off a Band-Aid..._ she thought to herself.

“C'mon, Sam. Let's get dressed.” she sniffed and tried hard to keep her face neutral and light; “A few quiet drinks, okay? Nothing as crazy as Milwakee.”

“Mmmkay, darlin'. Be right there...”Sam nodded, kissing her softly before he got up and pulled on a clean pair of jeans, not bothering with boxers before he tugged on a tight black shirt that hugged every muscle, teaming it with a blue flannel before sitting once more on the edge of the bed to put on his boots.

Evie followed suit, picking up the slightly blood-flecked towel they'd laid on the bed and throwing it into the trash before she shuffled on another pair of panties-orange this time with blue trim-along with a fresh pad, her black leather mini-skirt and a vintage Metallica t-shirt before a quick lace up of her combat boots and she was all set to take Sam's hand as they left the room and headed out of the hotel towards the bar, hand in hand and looking the picture of a young, happy couple.

Sam had the forethought to bring the cake with him and so, finding Castiel at a booth near the jukebox, he and Evie settled down for a night of drinks to celebrate Evie's 30th birthday.

The bar was a lot smaller than the one in Milwakee and had a somewhat limited selection of drinks. It was also absolutely jam packed with drunken college students, overspill from the furry convention and a whole other host of revellers from the parade earlier so getting served at the bar was something of a difficult task.

Evie's nerves were amped up despite being in good company and her green eyes would often wander to the crowd searching for Dean, the ever-present fear of not knowing what kind of mood or level of soberity he was in doing little to calm her.

Sure enough, the party atomosphere was shattered instantly by the sound of a commotion at the bar and Evie grimaced as Sam and Castiel turned in time to see a clearly inebriated Dean engage in a fist-fight with someone in a large fuzzy green lizard suit, the pair toppling to the floor as they wrestled for dominance, Dean landing the deciding blow by smashing an empty bottle of Jack Daniels hard on the unfortunate furry's back and showering the floor in glass shards.

“Urrgh.. I told him to take it easy but did he listen? _Nope_...” Castiel groaned as he stepped out of the booth and forcefully dragged Dean out of the scuffle before the bouncer had a chance to step in.

Shoving the older Winchester into the booth across from Sam and Evie, Castiel kept a firm hand on his shoulder and cast him a warning look, not wishing for a second round of his antics.

“Calm down. You'll spoil this night before it's even begun. It's Evie's birthday and I'm sure she doesn't appreciate you causing a riot, Dean.”

“Oh, shut up, Cas. Evie _loves_ a bad boy, dont'cha, ya lil' cockslut?”Dean slurred, head rolling slightly as he leaned across the table and attempted to paw at Evie's chest only for her to draw her hand back and slap him hard across the face.

“Hey, hey! Hands off the merchindise, Dean! Get some coffee into you, you're too drunk to function-”she snapped only to let out a yelp as he dived a hand under the table and pushed it roughly up her thigh, fingers teasing against the blue lace of her panties.

“Don't be a tease, baby. I know you're always up to fuck me!”

“ _Fuck off, Dean!_ ” Evie screamed, kicking him square in the balls with the full force of her steel-toed boot and causing him to double over, eyes bugging as the searing pain in his groin jolted him head-first into some semblance of soberity.

“Oofff...oww...!”

“What the hell do you think you're doing, Dean?! You're causing a total scene!” Sam snapped, face burning with indignity as he became acutely aware of all the people watching things unfold. He curled a protective arm around Evie and held her close, feeling her shake with ill-concealed fury over Dean's actions.

“Sam, you're bein' _far_ too kind. Your girlfriend's a _total fuckin' whore_. Not that I'm complainin', heh! We had quite some fun times together, didn't we, Evie? In the kitchen, my bed, the gym-!” Dean slurred despite the pain in his groin still lingering, his evergreen eyes glazed over and squinting at a mortified Evie, relishing as she sunk into her seat, pure panic etched upon her face.

Sam's eyes widened and he shot a glance between his brother and his would-be-girlfriend.

“ _The fuck?!_ Evie, tell me he's just totally wasted and runnin' his mouth off-!”

A wave of utter humiliation and shame washed over Evie like a tsunami and she buried her face in her hands as she fought back a pained sob. “I-Sam! Sam, I'm so fucking sorry-!” she gasped out, fisting her hands in her hair and trying so hard not to look at him.

“Everlyn, what the ever-lovin' _fuck_ -?!” Sam gasped, shocked at her telling reaction to Dean's traitorous words.

“Welp, secret's out!” Dean quipped, completely non-plussed at having just destroyed a budding relationship between the stricken brunette and his younger brother; “It's been a helluva ride!”

“ _You absolute fucking bastard, Dean Winchester!_ You've ruined everything!” Evie was close to hysterics at this point, hot tears of intermingled anger and pain trickling down her face to pool in the hollows of her collorbone.

“Sweetheart, it takes two to tango! We both done fucked up-”Dean started, only for Evie to kick him once more in the crotch under the table with every single ounce of fury and desperation in her small body, letting lose with a shrill scream before she rounded the table and started pummelling Dean with her fists, striking him repeatedly in the face to the point that she cracked his nose hard enough to make it gush blood.

“Oh for crying out loud-!” Castiel managed to pull them apart just as Dean made a drunken grab for the back of Evie's head. “This has gone on long enough and I won't idly stand by and watch you hurt each other anymore.” The angel's tone was calm but angered as he held Dean back with celestial force in the seat.

“You _knew_ about this?!” Sam yelled at Castiel, causing him to flinch slightly.

“Sam, that's a moot point at this stage-”

Sam pulled at his hair in shock, staring slackjawed at Evie, who was standing outside the booth with a look of utter defeat upon her face as she silently cried.

“You cheated on me?! With my goddamn _brother_ -?!”

“I'm so sorry...! Sam! I-I...” Evie's words were small as she practically choked on them before, unable to face the scrutiny in his hazel eyes for a second longer, she grabbed her jacket and turned to flee the bar; “I can't do this anymore! _I'm so fucking sorry-!_ ”

Moving as fast as her shaking legs could take her, Evie ran out of the bar in a flury of hot tears and despair, leaving a dumbstuck Sam to slump winded in his seat.

“Sam, what are you doing? _Go after her!_ ” Castiel snapped, slamming Dean back against the booth once more as he struggled against him, cursing all the while.

“I...Oh, Jesus!” Sam growled before he got to his feet in an instant and ran after Evie, dropping the cake out of his lap where it fell to the floor in a wet plop, forgotten as he trod in it as his boots pounded the floor in hot pursuit of the woman he had only just confessed his love to hours beforehand.

\-------

It was barely after 6pm but the sky was already beginning to darken and as Sam frantically glanced up and down the street, he saw no sign of Evie. Figuring she'd gone to hide out back in the hotel, he took off in a run, not stopping until his feet pounded the white tiles of the reception and he paused to catch his breath, leaning against a collemn.

“You okay, Agent...uhh..?” the receptionist peered at him from behind her desk, concern in her eyes.

“S-Sorry. Just takin' a break from a run...” Sam panted out, forcing a weak smile as he straightened up and brushed lint from his t-shirt, his heart hammering painfully against his ribcage.

“You an' Agent Jericho have a fight or somethin'? She just flew past here in a right state, like her damn heart'd been ripped clean out her chest.”

“Where-where is she?”Sam sighed, barely able to keep up the act of being a Federal Agent as he approached the desk with shaking steps.

The receptionist jabbed a thumb towards the double glass doors down the far end of the entrance hall. “By the looks of it, you should find her out by the pool. Can I do anything? She seemed really upset-”

“You've done enough.” Sam said, a little more roughly than he'd intended, not bothering to see the receptionist's reaction as he once more took off in a sprint and practically crashed through the doors to the outdoor pool area, finding it completely deserted save for vacent white sun loungers and matching parasols.

“ _Evie!”_ He yelled out, his anger fading into adject worry. He knew from somewhat limited experience and from what she'd previously told him about her own troubled life so far that something as harrowing as what just happened could cause her to act rashly and his skin prickled at the thought of her doing something insanely stupid.

Looking franticly around the quiet pool area, Sam's heart dropped through his stomach when he spotted Evie up on the highest diving board over the deepest end of the pool, a good two storeys high off the ground, teethering dangerously close to the edge.

His instincts kicked right into gear. He just _knew_ she couldn't swim and the fall into the deep end of the pool would no doubt result in her drowning right before his eyes if he didn't act fast so he scrambled straight up the ladders like a shot, reaching her just in time.

“ _Evie!!_ ” Sam cried out, skidding to a halt less than a foot away from the edge, grabbing a metal rail with one hand whilst the other grasped Evie's left wrist hard enough to bruise.

“Don't you _dare_ try to save me, Sam! I'm so far beyond your help at this point...!” her words were small and disjointed, eerily calm and far away, almost completely disembodied and it scared the righteous anger clean out of Sam, replacing it with abject horror and intense worry.

“Everlyn, please! Don't do this. We can work it out! C'mon, we-we'll go back to the hotel and just talk, okay? I-I'm not mad anymore. I just want you to be safe. C'mere-”He tried to keep his voice calm and even, attempting to pull her to him but Evie managed to wrench her arm away and took another agonising step backwards towards the edge of the high dive, mere inches from falling.

“I've hurt _so_ many people, Samuel, in this world and my own. It's not fair to you all. I'd be better off dead. Let me go, Sam. If you truly love me, _just let me fucking go_!” Evie sobbed before she turned around and stared down hard at the deceptively calm blue water two storeys below.

Compared to the sheer drop from the cliff the first time she had jumped to her doom, it was a much shorter fall but she knew it could be just as effective in killing her second time around even if she wasn't entirely sure if she was even capable of dying a second time around.

Mind clouded over with agony and regret over all the hurt she'd caused everyone, she took a deep, shaky breath and leaned forward, all set to jump once more but a strong, powerful hand pulled her back from the brink at the very last second by the back of her t-shirt, hard enough to rip it in the process as Sam crushed her into his taunt chest that was heaving with ill-supressed sobs.

“ _No!_ I'm not letting you take the coward's way out! Not again! Everlyn, _please!_ Talk to me! We can work through this! Please!” Sam's breathing was achingly close to hyperventilation at this point but for her sake, he was just barely holding it together.

“ _Let me go, Sam!”_ Evie screamed, trashing wildly in his arms but Sam's grip was almost suffocatingly strong and he held her close, his hazel eyes burning deep into hers.

“I've lost so many people in my life, Evie. I can't- _I won't!_ \- lose you too. Please, come down off the ledge. If-if you really want out of this world, I'll help you. We'll do it together, safely, but I'll be damned to Hell if I let you do anything so _fucking_ reckless ever again!”

Evie slumped against his chest and sobbed hard, barely able to get the words out coherently.

“You don't want to be with me, Sam! I'm a fucking mess, irrepairably damaged goods. I'm a total whore, I play with people's emotions and only end up 'causing a world of hurt along the way. I get fucking suicidal at the drop of a hat- _I'm so fucking far from good girlfriend material-! I'm-I'm-!_ ” Her words died in her throat, reduced to shuddering, hysterical sobs of utter despair as they lay against the rails of the high dive in a heap, both of them crying hard.

 

After a short while where they just sat there trying to catch their respective breaths, Sam and Evie eventually calmed down enough to slowly climb down the ladders to the ground where they were met with a shocked Castiel who had just witnessed the entire sorry scene.

“How...how can I help?”He said slowly, taking Evie into his arms where she promptly started to cry once more, her small hands fisting against the material of his white dress shirt, peppering it with tear stains.

“We need to get back to the bunker pronto, Cas. N-No use in lingering here anymore. She-she wants out, Castiel. In a big way. I'm not gonna fight it any more. We need Rowena to help with the spell if we have any chance of fixing this whole sorry mess...” Sam said tersely, raking his hands through his hair and feeling his stomach churn uncomfortably.

“As you wish.” The angel said slowly, blue eyes full of understanding.

“Wh-Where's Dean?” Sam sighed, slumping onto a nearby sun lounger as his legs turned to jelly underneath him.

“I knocked him out for his own good. After you two left, he tried to start another fight and even took a few drunken swings at me so I zapped him to the suite, placed him into unconsciousness and left him on the sofa. I knew something was horribly wrong and it seems I got here just in time.” Castiel's tone was grim but he was his characteristicly calm self in the aftermath of a fierce storm.

“C'mon. I'll zap us all home. This may cause a fair degree of nausea, Everlyn.” He ran his hands along Evie's back in a bid to offer comfort but she was inconsolable, gasping for air as she shuddered under his lithe arms.

Sighing deeply, the angel clicked his fingers and in an instant, they were once more back in the relative safety of the bunker.

======

After composing herself somewhat following Castiel making her a soothing cup of camomile tea, Evie retired to her own bedroom, vowing to avoid both Winchester brothers as much as humanly possible, so stricken by the explosive scenes in the bar and the horrific aftermath that she fell into a deep, exhausted mess face down on the bed, wishing so much to suffocate in the pillow in her restless slumber until, overcome by fatigue, her eyes flickered shut and she succumbed once more to the familiar comfort of darkness.

A little while after dawn, she was roused awake by the feeling of the mattress sagging gently and she sprang upright, readying herself to land a punch on whoever sat next to her on the bed, her eyes squinting against the shadows.

“Everlyn.” She relaxed slightly, feeling Castiel's strong but gentle grip hold her balled up fist as he stopped it from landing on his chin. With her free hand, Evie fumbled around for the switch to the bedside lamp and at once, the room was flooded with a soft, peach-coloured glow.

The angel was sitting next to her, studying her form with quiet concern in his baby blue eyes.

She noticed he had changed out of his usual uniform of slacks, shirt and trenchcoat into a pair of cotton pyjamas in such a pale shade of blue they were practically white, barefoot and sitting slightly cross-legged. Evie couldn't help but smile. He looked adorable, his black hair slightly mussed in places and sticking up at odd angles.

“Hey there, Angel Cakes...” she said, her voice cracked and hoarse from all the crying she'd done earlier. Sensing exactly what she needed, Castiel opened his arms wide and let her embrace him, her tiny arms winding around his waist.

He felt soft and warm and whilst nowhere near as buff as Sam or Dean, his form was strong and heartening as he closed his arms around her and gently rocked her against his chest.

“I came in to check on you. Your health and safety is my utmost concern.”

Evie sniffled, her eyes aching and dry. She had no more tears left to cry.

“I fucked everything up so completely, Cas. How am I ever going to recover from all this?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Evie. I will try and help you as best as I possibly can but even I do not have all the answers. Love triangles are not exactly my forte...” said Castiel, shifting a little as she pulled away and lay back against the mattress.

Sighing deeply, Evie scrubbed at her eyes and winced. The pain in her skull was tangible and she was probably severely dehydrated. Almost as if he read her mind, Castiel produced a large glass of icy cold water and handed it to her, watching as she took a hearty mouthful and relished the cooling sensation as it washed away the arid desert in her mouth.

Licking droplets from her lips, she set the half-empty glass down on the nightstand and beckoned Castiel to her. He tensed slightly, unsure of himself.

“What are you asking of me, Evie? I know you are deeply hurting and whilst I _do_ wish to offer you comfort, let's not get ahead of ourselves. I have no desire to be sexual with you or any other woman for that matter...” he said quietly, his Adam's apple quivering slightly.

“ _Urgh, Cas!_ I love you dearly but I'm not after anything like that. I just...I just want to be held tonight, to be cuddled by someone who isn't gonna break my heart any further than it already is. I know I have a less than sterling reputation when it comes to having men in my bed but trust me, I'm not going to cross any lines with you. Besides, I'm pretty sure you're gay based on what you've told me about being in love with Dean...”

The angel relaxed at this and smiled, shuffled towards her and laying down on the expanse of mattress she offered up. “Well, you're certainly not wrong there, Evie, though on that note, as an angel, I pay no heed to observing typical human genders or sexual orientation. Still, you make a strong point of my affections towards Dean so perhaps you are right in recodnizing that at least in this vessel, I am a homosexual...”

Evie chuckled and rolled against his chest, feeling the steady hum of his breath, low and even as he entwined his arms around her. “Cas...? I gotta ask...have you ever...uhm... you ever actually _been_ with anyone? Y'know, sexually?”

“Evie... that's a very personal question.”

“Sorry. I just... well...like I said, I've been watching you guys get up to mischief for about ten seasons at this point. I'm just... I'm just _concerned._ ” Evie shifted slightly to brush several dark locks of his hair from his eyes; “At one point, you wind up turning completely human and end up getting seduced by a woman named April who turns out to be a Reaper. Damn nearly made me punch a hole through the TV when I found that out...”

Castiel chuckled softly, the action causing his chest to rumble slightly as Evie settled once more to rest her head upon it. “I appreciate your concern for my virtue but as of yet, no, I have never been intimate with anyone in such a manner.”

“Ahh, so you're _technically_ a virgin then?”

“Does it really matter all that much, Evie? As I told you before, I haven't a hope in Hell with Dean-”

“And like I said to _you_ , Castiel-” Evie gave him a hard poke in the chest, causing him to wince slightly; “-I'll help you out where I can on that part. Right now, though? I could seriously _murder_ Dean Winchester for what he did earlier. I knew it was all going to come out eventually but God, that was an unholy shitstorm...! I wanted us all to sit down and talk calmly like grown adults but he just had to go get _fucked up_ on alcohol and blurt it all out...!”

“What's done is done. No use in fretting any further but I understand that you are experiencing untoward mental anguish over all that transpired last night. Go back to sleep. I am perfectly content to watch over you for the remainder of the night. If you should require anything else, within reason, I'm here for you.” Castiel rubbed her back gently and Evie smiled despite the pains in her head and chest, content to let him do what he did best and be a force for kindness and comfort.

They lay on the bed in silence for a while longer but Evie couldn't quite settle and so, after another mouthful of water, she sat up against the pillows and peered at Castiel with a shy, curious expression on her face.

“Castiel?”

 

“Yes, Evie?”

She twirled her hair awkwardly, looking down at her lap as she summoned the courage to ask a simple request. “If...if it's not too big an ask, I'd...I'd really like to see your wings.”

Castiel cocked his head to the side, his blue eyes glinting softly in the low light of the bedside lamp.

“An unusual request. May I ask why?”

“I...I'm just _curious_ , really. I've only ever seen brief flashes of them when you first showed up and raised Dean from Perdition an' all. They kinda looked like shadows back then but I'd like to see them up close and real if you don't mind...sorry, it's stupid-”

“It's fine, Evie. I fully understand that you've never met an actual angel until I came into your life. It is no trouble. Actually, I haven't stretched them properly in years so I'd appreciate the opportunity to do so. One moment, please. I'll need to remove my shirt.” Castiel slid off the bed and stood up, slowly undoing the buttons of his pyjama top until he shuffled it clean off his shoulders and draped it neatly over the nearby chair.

Evie felt herself blush at the sight of his bare chest, almost as pale as hers and just as bird-like but she didn't have long to linger on the sight of it as a sudden fluttering noise filled the air and Castiel let out a low groan, a pair of gigantic black feathery wings extending slowly from between his shoulder blades and unfurling before her eyes until they practically took up the entire expanse of the room.

“Urgh...feels good to finally stretch.” He murmured, reaching between his shoulders to massage the bases of his wings, closing his eyes and giving a small, relieved sigh.

“Castiel...!” Evie gasped, breathless and enraptured by the stunning wingspan on display before her; “They're _absolutely_ gorgeous!”

“I'm glad you think so, Evie. I am quite proud of them myself...” Castiel moved to sit once more on the bed beside her but the action only served to make one of his wings bump into a pile of books on the desk in the corner, knocking them loudly to the floor.

“Woops...I forget how big they are sometimes.” He said, pausing to shrink the wings down to a more managable size and tucking them neatly against his back before leaning down to set the books back in place. Evie, without even thinking, reached out to place a hand on the dark feathers, feeling them slip through her fingers like fine silk.

Castiel froze in place, his wings fluttering wildly before he let lose with a full-body shudder and a loud groan that was positively sexual.

Evie jumped and yanked her hand right back as though she'd hurt him.

“Shit! Sorry! I didn't mean to-! Cas, are you alright?!”

The angel breathed hard and ran a hand through his hair before composing himself once again, wings spread as wide as they could go in a lazy stretch.

“I'm fine, Everlyn, but please be mindful. They are _incredibly_ sensitive to the slightest touch.”

“R-right, sorry again. But no word of a lie, those wings are so goddamn beautiful, Cas! I almost wish I had a set of my own. If I wasn't so scared of heights, I fly so high, feel the wind on my face and the sun at my back...”

“That's not something you should wish for lightly, Evie. Being an angel is a hard life. Trust me on that. Heaven is not exactly peaceful at times...”Castiel gave her a stern gaze and she bit her lip, shuffling under the covers.

“You're tellin' me! If my being here is some weird form of my own personal Heaven, then why must everything be so utterly _complicated?_ ”She groaned and flopped back against the covers, one arm over her eyes.

“What am I going to do, Castiel? I want both of them.. _.equally_ but in very different ways for a whole variety of reasons.” Evie sat upright and pulled her knees to her chest, casting him a guilty expression. “I know have no right to be so fucking greedy. I know you love Dean too but...urgh...!”

“It's fine, Evie. The heart wants what it wants and you cannot deny yourself your feelings but for now, best not to dwell on things too much lest you add to the emotional turmoil already weighing heavily on your shoulders.” Castiel shifted closer and once more pulled her into an embrace against his chest. Evie wheezed out a breath, suddenly uncomfortable at the close proximity of her face against his bare skin.

Another fluttering sound and Castiel's silky black wings enveloped them both before he rolled to his side and nestled against the mattress, peering at her with kindness in his blue eyes.

“This is strangely intimate. Are you comfortable being this close to me, Everlyn?”

“It's fine, Castiel.” She said sincerely, booping his nose and letting out a little giggle; “You're adorable, y'know that? I'm beginning to feel much better already.”

“I'm glad to hear it. It pains me to see you in distress. Sleep. Tomorrow, we have a busy day ahead of us. Rowena will be summoned.” Castiel said, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead.

“Oh? I thought you guys didn't want to get her involved.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures, Evie. She is far superior in power when it comes to performing spells as difficult as the one myself and Sam found. You have a pressing need to leave this world and return to your own, yes?”

Evie sighed deeply and nuzzled into his bare collorbone. He smelled like fresh cotton, mint and the purest, finest vanilla bean and she smiled wistfully, turbulence beginning to stir in the pits of her stomach. “I...I _did,_ Cas, but now I'm not so sure. My world is a deeply lonely one filled with pain, trauma and horrible memories but I know I can't keep running from things any more...”

“Sleep on it. You'll be able to think clearer in the morning.” He pressed another sweet kiss to her hair before pulling up a corner of the sheets and sliding underneath them. He wasn't particularly tired but given everything that had transpired over the last several hours, he figured they could both use some much needed sleep and so, using his grace to lull Evie into a more peaceful slumber, he soon followed her and they lay entwined in a bundle of black feathers and sheets, barely moving an inch until the morning faded into noon...

\-------------

Evie was only awoken by a gentle shake from Castiel. Blinking, she yawned loudly and rubbed her eyes. Despite the angst of the previous evening, she had slept remarkable well wrapped in the angel's warm, soft feathers and she turned to face him.

He was wide awake but resting on his side, head on a plump, overstuffed pillow. His wings were gone, placed neatly hidden inside his back and he had his pyjama top back on once more, open slightly at the collor.

“Good morning.” He said lightly, reaching to push her hair from her face, his fingertips brushing softly against her cheekbones. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, Castiel. Thank you. I needed that. Calm before the storm, right?”

She sat up slowly and took one last sip of the water on her nightstand. Somehow, it was still icy cold despite standing there for hours. “What's happening?”

“I haven't left the room all morning, Everlyn. Come. Time to face the music.” Castiel got up slowly and stood by the side of the bed, offering her his hand and a sympathetic expression.

“Urgh, I'd rather dance with the Devil under the pale moonlight...” Evie grumbled sarcasticly, taking him up on his kind offer and letting him pull her to her feet.

“I don't...I don't understand that reference.”

She bit back a chuckle and pulled him into a hug. “Don't worry your pretty little head, Angel Cakes. C'mon. As much as I'd love to hide out in here and enjoy your company some more, I need to face facts sometime. Besides, I'm kinda hungry and all that water makes me wanna pee...”

Castiel nodded and dropped her hand, studying her form. She was still dressed in the crumpled clothes from the previous night so, wishing to give her some privacy to change, he bid farewell and told her to meet him in the library before he left her alone in the room.

With a deep sigh, Evie shuffled out of her old clothes and after quickly changing her pad and underwear, pulled on a fitted black long-sleeved dress with a mermaid skirt that was far too long and dragged on the floor as she padded barefoot to the bathroom, hoping she wouldn't meet anyone along the way.

Quickly peeing, she splashed water on her face and fixed her hair into a messy bun, peering at her reflection in the mirror above the sink with intense scrutiny. Though she had slept remarkably well in Castiel's delicate embrace, the emotional scars of the previous night showed on her face and the dark circles from before had returned in full, her emerald eyes scratchy and slightly red from all the intense crying she'd done.

With a groan, she fumbled for the small bag of make-up she'd stashed in the cabinet beneath before she set to work putting on some foundation and a light sweep of grey eyeshadow, not bothering to coat her lips before she returned the stuff back to the cabinet and steeled herself, not knowing what she'd face outside the bathroom door.

Pulling a handful of dress fabric up so she wouldn't trip, Evie moved into the kitchen, relieved to find it mercifully empty. She fixed herself a gigantic cup of strong coffee loaded with sugar along with a bowl of Reese's Puffs which, despite her eternal love of anything peanut butter-related, tasted like ash in her mouth and caused her to petulantly dump the cereal in the trash.

Flapping her lips in mild irration, she knew she couldn't put it off any longer and so she threaded into the library to face the music.

 

Her breath hitched in her chest as her eyes fell upon a head of fiery red curls and for a split second, Evie could've sworn she was reunited with Barry's lovely wife Sinead but she was not at all disappointed when, with a turn of the woman's head, she was greeted with the sight of none other than Rowena herself, resplendent in a form-fitting crushed velvet dress in a deep shade of purple that hugged every single one of her curves as she stood slightly bent over one of the many tables in the library, an insane array of witchcraft and spell materials sprawled across the top along with a large black iron cauldron that was spewing out a steady stream of orange smoke that smelt strongly of citrus.

“Evie.”

Dean's voice, filled with sorrow and regret, wretched Evie away from outright gauping at the witch. She glared darkly at the older Winchester, who stood before her in a red shirt and black jeans, his head bowed low and his hands limp at his sides, defeated and broken.

“Everlyn... Evie, I'm so _fuckin'_ sorry-” his voice was little more than a pained whisper but she held up a hand, using every single last ounce of her willpower not to rear back and slap him outright.

“Fuck off, Dean. Don't you _ever_ talk to me again-!” she gritted out, her eyes burning into him as she barged clean past him to stand in front of the table where Rowena was pouring over an open tome of ancient spells.

At the sound of Evie's growled response to Dean, the witch glanced up and smiled, showing pearly white teeth. “Oh ho, a lover's quarell? How quaint!” her Scottish accent was almost a purr and her grey eyes sparkled with mischief.

Evie cleared her throat loudly and fixed a wide smile on her face. It was almost genuine considering she was a huge fan of Rowena and the fact they were finally meeting in person was not lost on her all things considered. “Uhh, hello there. I'm-”

“Everlyn Keogh. Yes, dear, I know. The boys were quick to fill me in on things. You've been up to some _shenangans_! Well, wouldn't you make a fine bride for my Fergus! He always goes for the frisky ones!” Rowena quipped, laughter in her voice at Evie's shocked expression.

“Whoa-whoa-whoa! Let's not get ahead of ourselves! Crowley's a lovable asshole, sure, but I have no desire to be your daughter-in-law even if I do admire your work, Rowena. Flattered but, uh, _noo._ ”

“Rowena, behave.” Sam said from a nearby alcove, stepping out from behind the telescope with what appeared to be a large grey hex bag in his hands. He stole a glance at Evie, his expression unreadable but he looked tired and she grimaced, regretting causing him so much pain.

“Sam.” She tried to grasp his wrist lightly as he passed but he just sighed deeply and didn't meet her gaze, rounding the table to hand the bag to the red-haired woman in their midst who took it gladly and threw it into the cauldron, causing it to hiss loudly and belch out more smoke, deep red this time.

“Let's just get this over with so we can sort this whole mess out once and for all.” He said quietly, leaning on the table with his arms folded.

“Do you have everything you need?” he asked the witch, who nodded in reply and walked the short steps to Evie, the ends of her dress brushing lightly against the hardwood floor.

“Just one more thing and we can begin. I need some of your blood, dear.”

“ _Wh-what?!”_

Rowena produced a small ceromonial dagger from a hidden pocket in her dress and extended an immaculately manicured hand. “Don't worry. It's just a minor amount. Nothing you won't die from, hee-hee!”

Evie glanced between the witch, Sam, Dean and Castiel who had just walked in dressed in his usual outfit. She sighed and nodded, conceeding defeat and let the witch take her wrist with a surprisingly gentle touch to lead her to stand before the cauldron, urging her to hold her hand over the bubbling concoction which was beginning to smell strongly of burning charcoal.

“Will-will this spell send me back to my own time?” Evie asked fearfully, feeling her entire body begin to tremble. Rowena smiled and tucked a rogue lock of black hair behind her left ear, tilting Evie's jaw up slightly to get a good look. Up close, Rowena was even more stunning in person and the younger woman marvelled at how clear her skin was despite the fact she must be close to 300 years old at this stage.

“Not quite, dear. It will show you the life you left behind and allow to see what your family are getting up to if you should care to know. This should be most interesting! Now, just a wee scratch-” Before Evie had a chance to react, Rowena swept the blade over the palm of her hand, causing her to emit a yelp as the action opened a sizable slash in the flesh, blood pooling in the wound instantaniously, soon overflowing and dripping into the cauldron.

As soon as the claret liquid hit that which was in the iron pot, a shower of sparks sprung up and Evie instinctively shielded her eyes, smearing blood across her face. Rowena didn't even flinch, having done this hundreds of times before.

The smoke from the cauldron turned deep purple and began to swirl and shimmer.

“Whoa, look!” Sam exclaimed and Evie dropped her bloody hand down just in time to see an image form in the smoke.

 

It was an aerial view of Ireland, all green fields and craggy mountains, almost as if seen from the window of a plane and the more she watched, the more the 'camera' zoomed in, the scenery flowing until it came to a natural stop outside a red brick building with a pair of imposing blue metal doors, the words “ _Coroner's Court_ ” in antique font etched above giving her pause for thought.

The scene shifted and the doors melted away, the view following down a dark hallway lit in ominous green light, deserted but for a number of stark metal tables on wheels parked up against the stark white walls. The 'camera' rounded a corner and dipped through a number of plastic flaps, through another set of double doors-white with circular windows this time- and Evie's stomach dropped as she realised she was watching a medical examiner pull back the sheet over a body laid out on a metal table which was surrounded by the figures of none other than a sobbing Barry, her ashen-faced grandmother showing an astonishing display of stoicism with her bereft mother and Sinead nearby.

“Oh dear God...!” Evie gasped in horror as she realised what was happening. Rooted to the spot, she could only look on unflinchingly as Barry dropped to the table by the head of the body, which was clearly Evie herself, an anguished wail escaping his throat.

“ _Baby girl, nooo! No! Why?! I thought-I thought you were getting better-!”_ he choked out, his gigantic hands cupping the corpse's head with profound tenderness despite his grief.

Evie swallowed. Her corpse was a disturbing sight.

Whilst not overtly gory in any way, her skin was tinged with a sickly green hue of decay, water-logged in places and her eyes were wide open, glassy and fogged with the tell-tale cataracts of death. Her chest had been explored, the signature Y-cut of the recently performed autopsy held in place by thick black stitches, her modesty covered by the thin white sheet.

The medical examiner, a tall bald willowy man who looked to be in his fifties, pushed his glasses up his nose and sighed. _“Mrs. Keogh, is this your daughter?”_

Evie watched at her mother, nearly catatonic at this stage, jolted and flinched at being addressed. She could only nod mutely, too numb by shock and grief to speak.

“ _I'm deeply sorry for your loss.”_ The medical examiner said gently, placing a hand on Evie's mother's whilst his free one covered up the corpse once more. _“Suicides are always tragic and this one is no different. Do you need me to put you in touch with a grief counciller?_ ”

If Evie's mother Marie said anything in reply, the sound was lost over another anguished wail from Barry and she could only bite her lip to keep from screaming herself as she watched him practically slump over her body, pulling it to him to hold her one last time, his wife Sinead with her fiery red hair hanging limp in her stricken face placing a hand on his shoulder in a bid to offer even the slightest bit of comfort but it was no use.

Barry sobbed hysterically for what felt like an eternity and the sound pierced Evie's heart like a dagger. Just when she thought she could take no more, the scene shifted as the smoke began to swirl once more and the scene jumped to some indeterminate time later.

Now, she saw a simple pale wooden coffin covered in a massive bunch of orange lilies laid out across a green tarpalin, waiting to be lowered into the cold, hard ground as a priest in a white robe with purple sash faintly recited the funeral rites. As the 'camera shot' widened, Evie was stunned to see not only Barry, Sinead, her mother and grandmother but at least a dozen other people she knew, her aunt Jackie sitting next to Barry and curling her chubby arms around her son whilst another woman in black Evie recodnized as a fellow metalhead she knew from her days gigging in Galway patted him sympatheticly on the back.

The priest finished the rites and took out a large black golf umbrella, opening it just as the ominous grey clouds overhead began to shower the scene in a steady stream of rain that grew in intensity until it was a virtual torrent, thunder crashing loudly and drowning out the sound of David Draimen's angst-ridden cover of _The Sound of Silence_ echoing from a grave-side speaker as an undertaker in a smart black suit stepped solemnly to the foot of the grave and flipped a switch at his left foot which sent the coffin on its' slow descent into the ground.

Evie could only watch with pure horror pooling in the pit of her stomach as the coffin landed soundlessly in the deep hole and the undertakers took to disassembling the wench device before one of them shoveled up a sizable mound of dirt, passing it silently around the mourners who had now gathered at the grave's edge to pay their final respects.

One by one, they each took a handful of steadily moistening earth and quietly threw it down into the grave where it slowly began to cover the coffin, clumping in the petals of the lillies. After everyone had done their part, the undertakers began to work fast to fill in the rest of the earth before the ground got too slick and before long, the hole was covered with a fresh, muddy mound.

The headstone was simple black granite, the words shining out in ornate Gothic letters etched in gold:

“ _Here lies Everlyn Imelda Keogh, a fallen angel. Born March 17_ _th_ _, 1988 – Died March 14_ _th_ _, 2018. '_ _ **I've had my fun and that's all that matters...'**_ _”_

 

“Welp...at least they got my epitaph right...”Evie choked out, barely aware of the dull throb in her wounded hand or the small trickle of blood that was slowly beginning to stain the end of her dress as she stood before the cauldron watching her own funeral play out, the song coming to a natural end before the smoke swirled once more and faded to black.

A flurry of arms enveloped her in an instant and she had no idea who touched her first but she didn't care. If Castiel, Dean and Sam hadn't taken hold of her there and then, she more than likely would've collasped to the floor but they held her steady, holding her tighter than they ever had before and whispered sweet, soothing words of comfort and love to soothe the deep ache inside her heart.

A soft touch at the base of her skull-Castiel, perhaps?- and she fell limp, surrendering to the arms of the men in her midst as everything went dark and she fell once more into a deep, dreamless slumber...

 

\------

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fun interactions with Chuck in this chapter! T'is the penultimate one in this story.

**CHAPTER NINE**

Fingers, nimble yet simultanious soft and rough swept with a featherlite touch down her jawline.

Soft words of a comforting tone, incoherent at first but slowly pulling into focus as the darkness lifted and her eyes fluttered open. Evie found herself lying with her head on someone's lap, denim grazing her ear as she slowly turned and found it to belong to Dean. It was his hand that traced down her jaw, his evergreen eyes shiny with long fallen tears and his jaw tensed as he primed himself for her reaction to his movements.

“Hey...” Dean said fearfully, displaying an almost uncharacteristic air of vulnerability as he watched the dark-haired woman slowly rouse from her slumber and sit upright.

“You...you okay there, Evie?”

She rubbed her eyes, feeling them dry and scratchy against her hand, still dehydrated and she wondered if she had been crying in her sleep. Scrapping a hand down her face, she stared at him for a long minute before, licking her lips, Evie scooted forward and pulled her arms around his neck to hug him tightly.

Dean swallowed. It certainly wasn't the explosive reaction he'd been expecting but he welcomed it with a certain degree of caution, not trusting himself to put his own arms around her so he instead stayed as still as possible.

“I'm _sorry,_ Dean. For everything that happened. For everything ever came between us to turn things so ugly...for everything that lies ahead. I...I don't know what's going to happen now but I'm done fighting.” Evie pulled back, her hands cupping his head as she kissed him softly on the forehead.

“I can't go home. Not after what I saw in the smoke. I've hurt so many people and I'm just...done. _Finished._ That world is gone now and only here remains. So, if you'll have me...I'd really like to stay.”

Dean's chest tightened, both from her solemn words and the close proximity. He was both elated and deeply troubled by her decision, caught in a struggle between staying as still as a stone or pulling her closer into a needy kiss. He swallowed and instead choice to rest his forehead against hers, slumping against the couch.

“I...I'd _love_ that. Really, I would. The thought of losing you, even for a second-! Christ, watching your funeral... it almost destroyed me.” Dean said quietly, his hands slowly rising to rest lightly on her hips, ghosting over the old bruises beneath her dress.

“I'm not going anywhere, Dean. Not anymore. I know I need help. _I know._ I'll take yours willingly, without a fuss. Sam and Castiel's too. All of you. You guys are my family now.”Evie had never sounded so purposeful in her life and it scared the hell out of her but her spirit was calm despite this, nestled against Dean's chest and half sitting in his lap.

She could feel every single breath he took, the air hot on her cheeks and she sighed gently, feel the strangest sense of relief wash over considering she had literally just watched her own funeral God knows how many hours ago. Glancing away from Dean momentarily, she looked around and saw that they were in a room in the bunker that she'd never seen before, neither on TV or in reality.

It was cosy, the green walls decorated with a number of posters for beer brands she didn't recodnize along with a few Eighties classic rock album covers and some framed photos of Sam, Dean and Castiel's life up 'til now. A metal bookshelf in the corner groaned under the weight of an assortment of boxes packed full of vinyl, tape cassettes, VHS and a mass of wires along with several thick books and, cutely, a tiny Scooby Doo Mystery Machine piggy bank.

“Where are we, Dean? I've never been in here...” Evie asked, curiously.

“Oh, uh, this is kind of my man-cave. S'where I go to get away from stuff for a while. It's nothin' special-” He seemed almost embarassed, acutely aware of the pair of them being sat on a threadbare sofa pushed up against the far wall next to a small bar and an old foosball table.

“It's nice, actually. Rustic. Kinda has a real Seventies den feel to it, methinks...” Evie rubbed her nose before she turned her emerald gaze once more to Dean, her hands reaching to gently stroke through his hair and he let out a low groan at the tender touch, closing his eyes and leaning into her.

“How long was I out?”

“'Bout six hours, give or take. It was kind of scary, actually.”Dean said, hugging her tightly and burying his head in the middle of her chest. “You were barely breathing despite Castiel having put you under for your own good. We all thought we were going to truly lose you then.”

“That so? Look at me, Dean.” Evie tilted his jaw up and his eyes slowly opened, uncertainty within.

“I honestly don't know why I'm not a hot, emotional wreck right now but I'm so calm that it's kind of scarying the hell out of me. Did Rowena do anything _strange_ whilst I was unconscious?”

“No, she was actually quite kind. Brought you right in here, lifted you up like you were nothing, kissed your head and asked me to tell you-”Dean's mouth pulled into a little smile; “-She'd like to take you to Manhatten someday for a shopping spree. She was positively _tickled_ when I filled her in about how you watched her on TV, y'know, the whole fan-girl thing...”

Evie barked out a laugh. “Heh, I might just take her up on that...if you don't mind, Dean.”

“S'alright with me. As long as you're safe and you know the risks that come with hanging around with a witch...”Dean said and relieved to find that she no longer hated his guts, he was beginning to feel a touch braver, his hands snaking up her sides to hold her just under her armpits.

Evie could sense what he wanted to do and stole a glance towards the open door.

“Dean, don't kiss me...I still haven't resolved things with Sam-”

“Actually, we had a long talk about everything after Rowena left. Sam and I, we hashed things out. He's...he's not _entirely_ sold on the idea of sharing you but it's something he's willing to try for all our sakes. As long as everything is out in the open, mutual consent an' all that jazz? We're golden.”

Dean stared at her expectantly but Evie's gaze still lingered by the door. As if he somehow knew what she was thinking, Sam walked in holding the Infinity Gauntlet mug in his hands, hot coffee wafting steam from the top.

His hazel eyes met hers and Evie was about to move out of Dean's lap when Sam stilled her actions by holding up a giant hand. His expression was softer than before, mingling relief with fatigue and he took several steps across the concrete floor until he was right beside her and his brother on the sofa.

“It's okay. He can kiss you if he wants to. If _you_ want to. I'm not going to fight the fact you have feelings for...for both of us. It is what it is, Evie. _Weirdest_ fuckin' arrangement of my life but we'll make it work together, okay? We have to. It's the only way we can get past things.” Sam said firmly, setting his coffee down on a nearby table and sweeping her dark hair from her face.

“Sam, are you sure about this?”

“Not entirely but I suppose all we can really do is try.” Sam's hand reached out to stroke her cheek and Evie smiled, turning slightly to kiss it reverently as she mimicked his own actions way back before they ever first slept together.

“Sammy, can I, er, lay one on her?” Dean asked, his hand stroking her other cheek, his hips trembling slightly underneath the woman in his lap.

Sam gave a slight smile and a silent nod. Emboldened, Dean licked his lips and pulled her close, sealing the gap between them in a deep, meaningful kiss. Evie sighed, opening her mouth just enough to let him lick between her lips in slow, steady strokes.

Dean took his sweet time, savouring every touch, the feeling of her pillowy lips against his and whilst he could feel the familiar sensations of physical arousal, he chose to ignore the most obvious ones, ever mindful that just several hours before, he had grossly betrayed his younger brother who was now sat right next to him.

Drawing back, Evie reached for Sam and pulled him closer, leaning for a kiss but he paused, his movements hesitant and unsure before her smile and a flutter of her eyelashes against his cheek spurred him on and he finally accepted her silent invite, kissing her hard and passionately, his large hands cradling her head.

She was left panting when he eventually pulled away and the air was beginning to feel uncomfortably hot with sensuality. Evie wondered how far things would go tonight, everything still so raw and new but she couldn't ponder for long as after a long moment of heated silence, Castiel appeared in the doorway, his blue eyes wide and confused but holding it in rather well.

“Everlyn.” he said softly, calm. “There is someone in the library I think you _really_ need to speak to...”

“Oh? Is Rowena back?” Sam asked, his words fumbling out of his mouth as he struggled to chase his breath. Standing up hurriedly, he shifted awkwardly on his feet and flicked his hair out of his face before extending a hand to Evie and pulling her upright gently.

Dean let out a tiny whine at the loss of feeling her small body in his lap but he sighed to himself.

They'd explore this strange, heady development another time.

Following Castiel once more into the library, none of them knew what to expect.

 

Sitting in one of the chairs near the alcove housing the telescope, a man who looked roughly to be in his mid-thirties sat with his legs up on the edge of the nearest table, clad in jeans, a red hoodie and some obscure band t-shirt, lightly curled brown hair mussed and wind swept, kind eyes taking in the surroundings as he scratched his beard and sipped on a beer.

At the sight of Evie, the stranger in their midst cast her a wide, toothy smile and sprang out of his seat, padding barefoot towards her and sweeping her up in a bear hug that almost crushed the life clean out of her.

“ _Everlyn!_ Just the woman I've been dyin' to meet! I was so worried my time-travelling skills were rusty at this point but you're here now! _Yay!_ Been wantin' to talk to you for years, my child! Man, I have so much to say to you. I'll start with a heartfelt apology, though...” he said brightly, seemingly oblivious to the woman squirming against his chest.

“ _Can't breeeathee!”_ she rasped, flailing her arms uselessly.

“Oh, woops! Sorry!” He released her quickly and rubbed the back of his head; “I forget how strong I can be sometimes...”

“Who.. who are you?” Evie wheezed out, rubbing her chest as it unconstricted itself and she took in a much needed lungful of air.

“Chuck Shirley!” the man said chirply, extending a hand; “Though, I go by many names throughout the universe. God, Lord, the Almighty, the Creator, the Grand Master, Alpha an' Omega-a whole list as long as your arm!”

Sam and Dean looked at each other then back to Chuck, bug eyed.

“ _The fuck?!”_ they uttered in unison.

“Show some respect, please. God himself stands before you.” Castiel snapped.

Evie's brow darkened and Dean immediately sensed that her anger was returning in full force and for good reason. Still, though the signs were as clear as day on her face, even he didn't anticipate her next move, which was to straight up dropkick Chuck in the face, catching him off guard and causing him to fall back on the table with a yell, research material and papers scattered wildly to the floor.

“ _Motherfuckingsonoffacuntwhore!”_ Evie screamed, pouncing on him and proceeding to give the deity a damn good hiding, beating her tiny fists against every part of him she could reach, tearing his shirt and knocking the glasses clean off his head.

“Urgh, ow...” Chuck sat up, rubbing his jaw. She barely hurt him but he was still blindsided by her fury. With a click of his fingers, a chair behind Evie shot forward and she was flung into it with celestial force. All at once, a series of shining golden ropes pinned her to the seat as she shrieked and squirmed against them, trashing about as if she was having some kind of violent seizure.

Eventually, she conceeded to the fact that she was well and truly beat and so, breathing hard, she sagged and dropped her head to her chest but her eyes burned into Chuck's and her words were icy cold.

“Despite your very existence, despite knowing _fully well_ every single fucked up, violent, disturbing thing that's ever happened to me right up to the day I died, the abuse, the suicide attempts, the trauma and mental illness, along with all the bullying, _you never once intervened_ in saving me from all the agony of my life! Some god you are, fuck-face! You don't even _pretend_ to care!”

Evie spat a huge glob right into Chuck's face and he grimaced, wiping his face with the sleeve of his hoodie as she continued on her calculated rant against him; “You are fucking _evil_ and so much worse than Lucifer himself, which is really, _really_ saying something!”

Chuck sighed and lowered his head, trying to place his hands on her shoulders to calm her with divine grace but his actions were met by her head-butting him in the face, causing his nose to trickle blood as he jerked back and pinched it into stopping.

“I'm so sorry, Everlyn Keogh. I may be omnipotent and all knowing but I don't get directly involved in humanity's business as I created the concept of free will and don't toy with it for reasons that'd make your head explode no matter how much I try to simplify things-”

“ _You're fucking_ _ **God!”**_ Evie shrieked, her throat close to tearing as the rage spewed out of her, hands clenching into fists against her bindings as she struggled once more, getting not an inch of purchase no matter how hard she tried.

“You created this universe! Why the radio silence?! Not just with my own agonizing life but these guys-!”she jerked her head in Sam, Castiel and Dean's direction and they both frowned darkly.

“I mean, for fucksake, the world's on the brink of a goddamn nuclear Holocaust with Trump and Kim Jong Un having a cock-measuring contest with nukes and missiles alone! If anyone needs smiting off the face of the Earth, it's those two fuck-nuggets! _Why?! Why have you ignored us?!_ ”

Chuck sighed and leaned against the table with his arms folded over his chest, his face pained.

“I'm trying to keep out of things, Evie.” he said plainly and this only riled her even further, making her trash against the chair so hard she nearly knocked it clean over and thus prompted Dean to grip the back to steady her.

“Easy!”

“Doing all this quiet omnipotence thing hurts, sure, but after the dumpster fire that was the Dark Ages and the whole Black Death fiasco, I decided to take a big step back. I only fuck things up spectacularly when I try to intervene and a lot of people end up dying.” said Chuck, shaking his head and setting his glasses back on his nose once more.

“What are you even doing here, Chuck?” Castiel finally asked, quietly observing the scene until now with narrowed eyes, scowling.

“Ahh, yes, that business!”Chuck quipped brightly, his mood instantly lightening as he smiled at Evie, earning nothing but the death glare to end them all for his troubles.

“I'm here with an _absolutely tantalising_ offer that'll change the course of your entire life. I think I have a fair idea of the path you'll choose but I'd really like to see you come to the decision on your own.”

“We're listening. Spill it.” said Sam, stepping towards the chair and kneeling to try and untie an apoletic Evie, who was burning her emerald glare into the God in their midst and trying hard not to scream at him again.

“I'm building up a new division for Heaven. Branchin' out, if you will. I want to create a specific type of angelic brigade I'm callin' the Guardian's Vigil.” Chuck said, silently loosening Evie's bonds and expertly ducking as she tried to slug him in the jaw.

“Oh, _fuck_ this! Don't tell me you want to conscript me! I don't fucking believe this! I'm no angel and I never believed in your goddamned existence up to now despite my Granmother doing everything she could to sway me and I'm not about to start rollin' back on the Athiesm now!” Evie growled, gritting her teeth so hard even Dean could hear the bones in her jaw grinding.

“Figured you'd say that but here's the thing, Everlyn. The Vigil's full of warrior angels tasked with guading the souls of those who have died tragic, untimely deaths largely by suicide like yourself into their own personal dimensions of Heaven to live out the rest of their eternities in blissful peace, no longer burdened with the pains of their past lives.” Chuck said purposely, his grey eyes kind and understanding despite the rage rolling off the woman before him.

“Highly unusual but a noble cause.” said Castiel, stealing a glance at Evie. He could feel the raw power of her intense negative emotions rolling off her and at that, the bunker lights began to flicker ominously, as if indicating she already had some degree of divine power lurking unconsciously beneath the surface.

“Absolutely not!”she cried out, hot tears flowing down her cheeks; “This is my home now but the longer I stay, the more I'm certain I'm widening a rip in the space-time continuem-!”

“That's no trouble whatsoever, Evie. Don't you worry your pretty head about the whole timeline breaking-”Chuck ruffled her hair and she nearly bit his fingers off; “You being here won't start the next apocolypse or anything. Shit's golden so don't worry yourself too much about it.”

“So, you want to make her into a guardian angel, is that it?” Castiel said, sliding his angel blade down his sleeve and weighing it in his hand momentarily before he slowly passed it to Evie, half expecting her to stab Chuck through the head with it.

Instead, she froze in the chair, feeling the cool metal weapon vibrate purposefully in her small hand.

It felt like it belonged there, like it was an extension of her own body, the metal razor sharp and shining as brightly as the day it was forged God knows how many millenia ago.

“Yup. Consider it sweet karma and a heartfelt, God honest apology for puttin' you through such a brutal life, kiddo.” the bearded deity grinned, pleased to see she had calmed somewhat and wasn't about to attack him again.

“What about the alternative option?” Dean asked, slumping into a nearby seat feeling winded by all that was steadily developing.

Chuck gave them all a sidelong glance and shrugged.

“Well, if she wants it, I can zap her straight back to her own time without much fuss but there are certain rules when it comes to time travel that compel me to reset things to a point where she never got sick, to alter her past life just enough to be happier and erase any residual trauma along with all lingering memories of her time here. I know it sucks but it's the only way to do things seamlessly.”

“Well, that's about as useful as a _knitted condom!_ ”Evie snapped, but her eyes never left the angel blade in her hands, her mind running over the rather exciting prospect of joining Castiel's ranks, perhaps even being graced with her own set of wings.

“Give it some thought. There's no big rush to make a decision right now but then again, monsters don't sleep and there have been stirrings in Hell I've been quietly monitoring.” said Chuck.

“Oh, what do you mean?” said Castiel, taking his blade from Evie and stashing it once more up his sleeve.

Chuck gave a knowing smirk.

“All in good time, my child. If Evie does decide to plump for angelhood, you guys'll gain one helluva powerful ally. I can see her aura. Can't you guys _feel_ the sheer energy rolling off her? I know she hates my guts right now but hate is a powerful emotion.” He turned to Evie and placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it firmly.

“Use your feelings. They'll serve you well in battle some day.”

The deity then turned and started to glow with a heavenly, golden light, the air in the room picking up to scatter papers across the room. He was about to vanish when Sam held out a hand.

“W-Wait! Something I'm curious about. I need answers!”

Chuck's glow dimmed slightly and he nodded. “Sure thing, dude. Ask away.”

Sam placed his hands on his hips and cast a confused glance at the bearded man before him.

“Uhhh... wow, so many questions! But I'll go with the most pressing one. When...when we saw Evie's funeral-” He swallowed hard, grimacing at the memory but continued; “-Her mother was there. She told us all that her mother died five years ago. What's that about? Plot hole or something?”

Chuck laughed and booped Sam's nose. “Well spotted, Samuel! I knew the abundence of smarts and logic I gave you weren't a waste! That's a rule I came up with a while ago after a marked increase of suicides around the world, which is what prompted me to create the Vigil.”

He sat down once more on the edge of the table and crossed his ankles.

“Rule's pretty straight forward, really. When one person decides to check out of their life on their own terms for whatever sad reasons, their time on Earth is forfeited and a person who died suddenly without much warning either by natural or violent, exenuating causes, gets a second chance to live out their lives. I think it's pretty nice, actually. No-one's time is wasted and folks can go on to do a world of good.”

Evie frowned and stood up, the golden ropes pooling at her bare feet.

“Wait, so my mother is alive in my world? But... _why?_ ”

“Plot twist, honey!” Chuck chuckled but he humored her and went on; “I have plans for Barry and Sinead to bring a daughter into the world soon. They'll need your mother's help to take care of her and way I figured it, what better way to help her cope with the pain of losing _you_ by devoting her renewed time on Earth to her great-niece? Besides, Marie's death was just so tragic and brutal that I wanted to make things right. She's a lovely woman and didn't deserve to be so brutally murdered the way she was.” His smile faded and he sighed deeply.

“I'm sorry, Evie. For everything. I know it's a real fuckin' cliche to say but things _do_ happen for a reason. You suffered in your old life so you'd grow strong enough to survive the next chapter in your story. Triumph comes from great adversity and I know you'll do me proud.”

Chuck pushed away from the table and closed the gap between him and Evie, embracing her warmly. She tensed up completely but didn't react any further, her expression one of deep confusion.

“I really broke the mould on you, kiddo, heh! Summon me when your mind's made up. A simple prayer'll do it.” He let her go and the glow around him returned in full force until it became so bright everyone except Castiel had to shield their eyes to keep from being blinded.

“Peace out, bitches!” Chuck's voice echoed through the bunker and there was a soft fluttering sound before the light quickly faded and a single bronze angel feather remained in the spot where he once stood.

\--------

The bunker was silent once more, the four inhabitants too stunned to speak after Chuck's startling revelations. Feeling three pairs of eyes upon her expecting some kind of frantic, emotional outburst, Evie simply sighed deeply, her head beginning to pang with the onset of a massive tension headache so, in a bid to nip it in the bud, she threaded to the kitchen and chased some pain meds with a glass of water before leaning against the sink, her breath ragged and uneven.

 

Panic began to seize her as the reality of the situation began to grow too big to ignore.

God himself was actively considering turning her into an _angel?_

 _The hell?!_ The idea was so utterly preposterous to her and yet, with the memories of Castiel's soft, silken wings brushing against her skin as they slept still fresh in her mind, it was also incredibly tempting. She thought of herself, resplendent in white and gold with an angel blade held aloft, magestic black wings unfurled as she swooped down upon some unholy monster with graceful vengence-

Evie took a deep, calming breath and another mouthful of water.

_I can't believe I'm even considering this...!_

The door to the kitchen swung open softly and Castiel walked in. His blue eyes took in Evie's form, sweeping over her slightly rumpled black dress and the indecision on her face, watching as she poured herself some coffee and sipped slowly, bony fingers curled around the warm cup as she stared back just as hard.

Finally, Castiel was the first to speak.

“Everlyn. I understand you must feel much in the way of inner turmoil over everything Chuck has told you. However, giving that I have been in the business of being an angel since time immemorial, you are always welcome to come to me with any questions or thoughts.” his voice was low, kind as always and she smiled at him from over the ridge of her mug.

“Thank you, Cas. Can I at least sleep on the idea for a while? My head's swimmin'.”

“Of course. But, for what it's worth... I think you'd make a fantastic angel.”

Her smile widened and that was all the reassurence she needed but she decided not to jump straight into voicing her decision. Instead, she placed her coffee down on the counter and pulled Castiel into a tight hug, nestling her head into the crock of his neck.

“If...If I _do_ decided to go for it, does that mean technically we're siblings or something?”

“Hmm, an interesting thought. I would not overthink things, Evie. We are who we are and whilst you will be bestowed with divine grace, I would hope that it would not change who you are as a person too much. I enjoy your company and the person I've come to know you as so please, do not let this opportunity alter you whatever you've decided.” Castiel's hands were at her back, holding her firm but gently and she let out a sigh of relief, delighted to know that he was there to offer non-judgemental support and a sympathetic ear.

Feeling confident, she held him at arm's lenght, staring deep into his baby blues with her own emerald gaze before she grinned and started laughing.

“What's so funny?” he queried.

“Can you _really_ imagine me as an angel, Cas? You're gonna have to teach me how to fly! And hey, if it's anything like the five times it took me to pass my driving test, we're in for a helluva learnin' curve!”

Castiel grinned, his sparrow-like chest rumbling with a purring laugh.

“We do have the power of teleportation, Evie. The wings...hmm, more for a show of intimidation these days, I suppose-”

“-And for lovely nights of snuggling!”

He shook his head but his eyes shined brightly at the fond memory of their platonic night together and he held her a hair tighter, resting his chin attop her head.

“So, you've already decided, then?”

“Pretty much. It sounds like an amazing opportunity for a do-over, to really _make_ something of my life. I could do a lot of good with some extra powers on my side and hey, when it comes to feeling a world of mental anguish, I'm pretty much an expert at this stage so I dunno.. maybe..maybe I might just be good to guide lost souls into the afterlife. What do you think, Cas?”

“You will be _glorious._ ” He slid his hand to hers and guided Evie from the kitchen back to the library before he spun her around to face the two Winchester brothers.

“Do you still wish to sleep on it?”

Sam pushed away from the table where he had just been straightening up the mess made from Chuck and Evie's scuffles, his hazel eyes full of curiousity as he handed several large books to Dean to place back on the shelves.

Evie exhaled a breath she never realised she'd been holding and nodded.

“Guys. I'm ready.”

Sam placed a hand on her shoulder, frowning.

“Are you sure? It's a pretty huge deal and as Castiel said, being an angel is far from easy-”

“That's life, Sam. What's another bit of hardship if it means I can make a real difference?” Evie cupped his chin and stood on her toes, kissing him sweetly. He smiled into her mouth and pulled her close, lifting her to sit on the edge of the table before the sound of someone clearing their throat loudly caused them to pull away from each other.

Sure enough, Chuck was in the room once more, still barefoot but this time munching on a gigantic pastrami sandwich, looking slightly miffed, an equally large red Big Gulp cup sat in his arms.

“Yo! That was _fast!_ ” he swallowed his mouthful and rested the remainder of the food on the table, shaking crumbs from his hands and wiping mayo on his shirt before plopping into a chair and peering at Evie from over the lenses of his black glasses.

“Was kinda expecting you to mull it over at least twenty four hours, heh!”

“I've always been one for making snap decisions, Chuck. You of all people should know that.” Evie stated witheringly but there was no more venom, just quiet acceptance. Whilst she didn't relish the lack of intervention from him throughout her troubled life, there was no more use in regret and hating him for it as right now, he was about to give her the chance of a life time.

Chuck nodded and took a sip of his soda, slurping it loudly before he slam-dunked the cup into the nearby waste basket.

“So, you made your mind up? Okie-dokey! Let's get this show on the road!” he rubbed his hands together and then outstretched them both towards Evie, almost brushing her face with the tips of his fingers but Dean stepped between them, his face knitted with concern.

“Whoa-whoa-whoa!” He turned to face Evie and gripped her shoulders; “Evie-Evie, you _absolutely_ sure about this? There's no going back if you do this!”

She smiled at him and ran her nails along the stubble on his chin.

“I'm sure, Dean. Appreciate your concern but I got this. I don't get many chances for redemption in my life. Gotta grab 'em by the balls before they slip out of my grasp forever.” She pushed away from the table and around Dean, stood right before Chuck with her arms folded.

“What are the conditions of the job? You said I'd be a guardian angel, right? Exactly what does that entail?”

“Ahh, all business, I see!” Chuck said brightly, adjusting his glasses on his nose; “Well, it's fairly simple. It's a lot like researching for a hunt in many ways only instead of killing monsters, you'll be reading up on outlines of people's lives and then greeting them in a place I call The Pale. It's...well, I guess it's like a waiting room as such. You just talk to them for a while, reassure them, relate with your own experiences, ask them what it is that makes them happy and from there, you'll be able to open a portal to their own personal form of Heaven and guide them through. Think of yourself as a celestial social worker or something...”

“Hmm, intriguing.” Evie stroked her jaw for a moment. “What about my powers as an angel? Will I be on the same level as Castiel or...?”

Chuck rubbed the back of his head and nodded.

“With time, I'm confident you'll be able to match him in skill and dexterity but no lie, it'll take a fair bit of training. I've seen you fight, though. You're a scrappy lil' shit! Mastering the powers might be a bit difficult but I have faith and Castiel would make an excellent teacher so you're in good hands and hey, if it gets a little too crazy, I'm on speed dial.”

Evie seemed satisfied with that answer and she smiled demurely, pushing a stray lock of hair out of her face. “Okay, seems fair enough. I accept your offer, Chuck. Don't make me regret it.” she thrust her hand out and Chuck grinned, shaking it entuasiasticly.

“ _Awesome!_ Now, this might feel a bit disorientating but trust me, it won't hurt a bit! If anything, you might feel an intense wave of euphoria...”

Before another word could be said by anyone, Chuck and Evie's clasped hands began to glow with white light, growing in brightness until once more, everyone save for him and Castiel had to shield their eyes.

The entire bunker began to shake from the immense celestial power as though there was a massive earthquake and groping blindly along the wall for something to hold, Dean somehow managed to grab Sam's shirt. The brothers fell to the floor, bombarded by falling books and items from the table, a deafening roar of wind drowning out Evie's gasps of surprise and causing papers to swirl across the room.

“ _Evie! Are you alright?!”_ Sam yelled, eyes scrunched shut tightly against the onslaught of light as he clung to a chair leg. The room shook for what felt like hours but as suddenly as it had begun, the quaking stopped abruptly and the light died down just enough for Sam and Dean to dare opening their eyes.

 

Peeking out from under the table, they both gasped.

Evie was suspended in mid-air close to the ceiling, her entire body aglow and seemingly naked beneath a sheen of celestial light, her eyes closed and her mouth a perfect O in a silent cry. Her black hair was now much longer, billowing out around her as if she was floating underwater.

“ _Chuck, what the hell-?!”_ Dean started but Chuck silenced him with a loud _shhh_ and a grin, urging them all to watch as Evie floated silently to the floor and landed gently on her side against the hardwood. The glow died down and there was a low sound of fluttering before two wide black wings burst forth from between her shoulder blades and wrapped over her naked form, concealing her modesty as she slowly opened her eyes and blinked.

“Everlyn, how are you feeling?” Castiel knelt by her head and helped her to her feet.

She wobbled slightly like a newborn deer and wound up falling into his chest, unsteady on her feet but smiling broadly as her fingers tangled in the front of Castiel's shirt.

 

“I...I feel _amazing!_ ”she gasped breathlessly. Turning to Chuck, she exhaled deeply and pushed her now waist-length hair out of her face; “That was _exhilerating on a freakin' cellular level!_ Holy shit! I feel...I feel like I've just had a million orgasms all at once!”

“Ahh, yes. The endorphin rush is quite heady, isn't it? It'll wear off in good time but for now, just enjoy it. Get a feel for things and when you think you're ready, I'll be waiting to assign you your first case. I'll give you a few days. Have fun, you lunatics. Don't do anything I wouldn't do-which is not a lot, ha! _Peace out!_ ”

Without waiting for another reply, Chuck was gone with a low pop, yet another bronze angel feather left on the floor near Evie's bare feet.

Dean and Sam got out from under the table and stood next to Castiel, gawking at the newborn angel in their midst.

 

Evie was... _Evie_ but the change from humanity into a celestial being had brought about certain physical chances, not just the fact she now had a set of full, powerful wings adorned with glossy black feathers. She was still small in stature and height but whilst she once looked positively malnourished, after Chuck's intervention, her form was soft and curved in places, her thin limbs now wrapped in a sizable amount of taunt, healthy muscle, making her look almost streamlined and athletic, built for fighting.

Her hair was now filled with gentle waves, almost as long as the day they'd all met and her skin-once ghostly pale- had a rich, healthy tan. Dean's eyes lingered on her chest and he gulped, feeling a hot blush rise up his neck.

_Oh my...!_

“Dean? What're you- _Ohh!_ ”Evie followed his molified gaze down to her breasts and was mildly startled to see that where she once had virtually nothing, she now had a pair of small but perky breasts, just enough to fill a B cup at least and she let out a squeal, throwing her arms around herself as she couldn't believe her luck, still dazed from the rush of endorphins and adrenaline surging through every single molecule in her body.

“Well! Looks like we're gonna have to go lingerie shopping, boys! Bwahaha!”she quipped, giving an experimental bounce on the balls of her feet and getting a delightful amount of jiggling for her troubles.

Sam made a choking noise in his throat and tugged at his collar.

“N-No word of a lie, Evie, you look _incredible-!_ ” his voice was an octave higher than normal, almost cracking in places but compared to Dean, he was trying his absolute damndest not to come completely undone right there in the library.

“ _I feel incredible, guys!_ Seriously, I'm tingling all over. Every single cell in my body just feels... _guh!_ ” Evie squealed, grabbing Sam and Dean by the wrists and pulling them both against her beneath her wings before folding them around the siblings.

“I-I've never been this happy in my _life!_ Bask in it with me. However long it lasts, I want you all to be a part of this transformation. You too, Cas. C'mere-” she reached out to tug Castiel forward but he let out a small yelp of surprise when he found himself pulled against her back by divine force, almost crashing right into her from the sheer strenght of her new-found powers.

“E-Everlyn, please be careful. You're a newborn angel. The power you now possess is unchecked and unstable-!” Castiel gulped but Evie frowned at him over her shoulder.

“Boo, you whore. Don't burst my bubble!” She gave both Sam and Dean a peck on their cheeks before grinning wickedly and glancing towards the bedrooms.

“C'mon. I wanna see _exactly_ how much stanima I've got now that I'm a celestial, cosmic entity! Think you boys can go toe-to-toe with an _angel_?”

Sam and Dean exchanged glances at each other, momentarily stunned by her proposition. Then, in perfect unison, identical smirks crossed their faces.

 

“ _Rock! Paper! Scissors!”_

 

Castiel rolled his eyes and rubbed his temples, ekking out a low groan.

 

_This was going to be fun...!_

 

_\------_

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap, folks! Hope y'all enjoyed this wild ride of randomness. Sequel will be worked on soon so watch this space or my Tumblr (mcchubbin.tumblr.com) for updates of that nature. If you enjoyed my writing endeavours, please feel free to leave a like, a comment or a kudos. Catch y'all later!
> 
> Zoop!
> 
> -Chubbs

**EPILOGUE**

 

**One Year Later...**

 

A low groan escaped Evie's lips and she grumbled inwardly to herself, reaching to rub her forehead as the onset of a headache began to brew. Grabbing the little Infinity Gautlet mug next to the thick stack of crisp white files on the table before her, she took a hearty mouthful and blanched upon finding her coffee to be stone-cold.

“Fuck, need caffine...” she muttered, dumping the cold liquid into the ficas by the door as she padded towards the kitchen.

Glancing around, she became acutely aware that she had been working in complete silence for the better part of twelve hours. With a frown, she dumped the mug in the sink and was about to go in search of the boys when she stopped, remembering her ongoing training. Chuckling softly, she closed her eyes and focused on seeking out the auras of the three men she had grown to love immensely, feeling each aspect of their individual souls radiate through her own body at a deep, subatomic frequency.

Dean's aura was green in color like his eyes, shining bright in her mind's eye and she could feel the giddiness rolling off him. Though she had no major skills in mind reading, Evie knew he was deeply excited about something and she pondered his feelings, wondering what could possibly bring such positivity to his soul.

Sam's aura was soft orange, calmer but again with a noticable air of excitability and anticipation whilst Castiel, eternally blue and stoic, betrayed nothing having honed his ability to conceal that aspect of himself over countless millenia.

All three men were in the living room and so Evie decided to join them, finding them seated on the plush leather couch. They all stood up rapidly when she entered, Sam almost dropping his laptop in the process.

“Hey. Been pretty quiet these last few hours. Why aren't you boys in bed?”Evie queried, hands on her hips.

“We...we uh, were researching a pretty insane looking case.” Sam said hurriedly, glancing between his brother and the older angel beside him.

“I'm all ears. I know I say I love my job but no word of a lie, the last file kinda bummed me out. Drowned child. Barely 6 years old. Fuckin' tragic. I could do with something a bit less depressing-”

“ _We're goin' to Vegas!”_ Dean blurted out, only to yelp when Sam slammed his elbow hard into his brother's sternum.

“Damnit, Dean! It was supposed to be a surprise!”

“S-Sorry! But she needs to know. She was gonna find out eventually an' lets face it, she's never been on an airplane before now. Gotta check she's okay with it-”Dean coughed roughly, rubbing his chest.

“Boys? What _are_ you planning?”Evie's tone was playful at first but her smile dropped in an instand when she saw Sam and Dean exchange a meaningful look between them before their eyes drank her in. “W-Wait. This...you're not planning anything _crazy_ for our anniversary, are you guys?”

Dean chuckled and licked his lips. It was then that Evie noticed he had a hand behind his back and her breath hitched into her throat, alongside her thundering heartbeat.

“D-Dean, you're not seriously-?!”

His smirk widened to the point that it looked set to split his face in half and he sank down on one knee, Sam mimicking the action half a second later.

“You first, Dean?” he said, offering his hand.

“Together, on three-”

 

Evie could feel herself becoming overwelmed in the best possible way and she felt her knees give way, causing her to sink onto the arm of a nearby recliner.

“Holy shit-!”

 

“Everlyn Imelda Keogh, will you marry us?” the brother proposed in perfect unison, each of them pulling out a small, ornate mahogany jewelary box and revealing two rings. Dean's offering was a pure platinum band with an intricate Celtic Knot design and the tinest of diamonds set dead centre of the links whilst Sam's was a simple, elegant gold ring with a single emerald in a princess cut.

“I-Oh my good God, Sam! Dean! I-I!” Evie fumbled over her words and sprang off the recliner, extending both hands to let the brothers slip the rings onto her fingers, both perfect fits.

“Might I also add to your new jewelary?” Castiel said, joining the Winchester brothers in kneeling before an estatic Evie and producing his own small box, which was longer and covered in light blue suede.

“O-Of course, Castiel, sweetie!” she breathed, unable to believe exactly what was unfolding. Castiel smiled and rose to his feet, opening his box to reveal a beautiful delicate silver chain necklace that had three trinkets hanging from it- an Anti-Posession sigal, a tiny corked bottle of rock salt and a single angel wing. He smiled fondly as he slipped it effortlessly over her head, the trinkets sitting perfectly against her sternum.

“Consider it a token of my own affections. I have no objections towards entering into this four-pronged marriage if you don't. We are a family after all.” Castiel said softly, running his fingertips along her cheek.

Evie bit her lip and pulled him into a deep embrace, sinking to the floor and dragging all three men into a flurry of kisses and cuddles, pure joy, love and laughter filling the room.

At last, she was home.

 

_Her new life was about to begin..._

 

**THE END...FOR NOW!**

 

 


End file.
